Stealing From Thieves
by evenstar101
Summary: After Nagini bites Severus, his body is in a coma, but Death has freed his spirit so that he may watch the lives of those who have shaped his own over the years. Live or die. A simple choice? Not when you're Severus Snape. SS/HG Post DH
1. I Was Robbed, Or So I Thought

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its affiliates.

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 1

I Was Robbed, or So I Thought

Robbed. Simple, trite, yet perfectly accurate. I was robbed of first my friends, then my love, next my freedom, and now it seems, my life. It's fitting. Now I am floating through Merlin knows what dimension looking at the same gray forever as I drift aimlessly in a perpetual state of déjà vu. At least the thieves who robbed me took away my pain. I don't hurt right now despite the debilitating bite I just received from Nagini, courtesy of the biggest thief of all, Lord Voldemort. How I hate that man, truly and deeply hate him, even in my death when I should finally be at peace, I hate him. And speaking of being at peace, isn't being dead supposed to be more than just the feeling of a floating through grayness? I once saw this Muggle film where this kid was stuck in a world that was being eaten by something called the Nothing. I feel like that is where I am, in the middle of the Nothing. If this continues much longer I might just be robbed of my faculties, and that would be the greatest loss of all. Maybe I am in hell.

I really wish I could have some sort of concept of time. It could be days, hours, maybe minutes since Nagini killed me. Things are starting to change though. Instead just feeling like a floating mind I have regained the sense of my body. I am aware of its location in space and I can actually feel my arms move. It is surreal having kinesthesia, but not being able to _see_ my arms as I lift them in front of my face. Ah, now I can, there are my hands. I am still floating in a standing position, everything is still grey, but now I can see my body. I am still dressed in the same teaching robes I was wearing when I was murdered, but my hands are clean. I know that I grappled at my neck before I lost consciousness, so my abandoned body must have blood on its hands. I have more blood on my hands than my own though, that is for certain. In my mind's eye I can see Nagini coming at me in her silvery magical cage. Good, now I can think in pictures at least if the grayness isn't going away. I was kind of hoping when I died I would be the best possible version of myself, but I appear to be the same. Same hopeless sense of fashion, my nose is probably still large and hooked, based on my hands, I would say my skin is still sallow, if only the antidotes I had been taking actually worked, I would have had more time after the war to work on my appearance. Probably not, I probably would have ended up in Azkaban, but that is neither here nor there.

And that is how I spent probably the first ten or fifteen minutes or so after Nagini bit me. It could not have been much longer than that because at that point I was able to see my body not as if through a fog, but clearly as if I was hovering just above it. I just ended up there without any desire to do so. One moment I was imagining that I would end up in Azkaban if I had survived the war, and the next I was just hovering above my body watching Granger dig through my robes trying to find the antidotes and dittany that I am confident she knew I would have on my person. I half expected to somehow reenter my body after she poured the potions down my throat and doused my wounds with the dittany, but nothing happened. The wounds closed then reopened, but with less blood. Granger poured a blood replenishing potion down my throat and I fruitlessly wished she wouldn't because it just make the wounds bleed worse. She realized her mistake instantly, but I didn't see why I wanted to caution her considering I was already dead. That is when the fear really struck me. Where was I? Why was I being forced to watch my broken body lying ugly and ruined on the floor while an eighteen year old girl tried to save me? Needless to say I remained unconscious, but I was terrified and horribly alone. I tried to leave and return to the Nothing, but I could not. I remained unconscious as Granger cursed and screamed, and beat the ground around my head with flat palms begging me to wake up. Her tears were dripping onto my cheeks and though I could not feel them I instinctively reached a hand to my face to wipe them away. I couldn't feel my face. I was aware of my hand at the place where my face was, but I couldn't _feel _it. I could not feel my thin skin or the stubble from my five o'clock shadow. The fear gripped me even more strongly, and my nonexistent heart started to thunder in my chest. So strange that I could feel a heart beat that I no longer needed, but I could not touch my own face. I held my hands out in front of me palm to palm and felt nothing.

Below me, Granger was casting a charm on an empty potion vial turning it into a Portkey. Even in her distress she had enough sense to move me with a Portkey rather than attempt to Apparate me. I never had a chance to wonder where she was taking my body because as soon as the Portkey activated I disappeared too and reappeared from the same vantage point in the air, at St. Mungo's hospital. Several healers surrounded Granger and my body and I waited for them to take it to the morgue. Maybe if there was some sort of confirmation that I was actually dead then perhaps I could move on. After all, I was not a ghost, not even a simulacrum of myself, I was just air with a mind and body only I could sense. I could not even stand on the ground.

But I never went to the morgue. They moved me to a room; they plied me with potions and began casting charms on my wounds. I was not dead after all, but I was not comforted. Where was I, and what was supposed to do? I mean, I knew where I _was_ physically, if you could call it that, but it appeared that my soul was not a part of earth anymore even though I could see it. I tore my eyes away from my body long enough to see Granger slinking unnoticed out of the room. I turned to follow her but I hit an invisible barrier at the door to the hospital room. Granger walked right out of it and turned left presumably towards the staircase that would lead her to an exit she could Apparate from. I, however, could not move any further from what I could only guess was my body. I was trapped. Excellent. I was moving from one awful dimension to another. At least I knew one thing for sure, and that was that I was still alive.

I continued to watch as the healer's worked on me. I could recognize the same healer that treated Arthur Weasley when he was bit by Nagini come in and begin his magic. I watched making useless mental notes of every spell and charm they used, surprised by the originality of sum, annoyed at the uselessness of others. After a few hours according to the clock on the wall I was apparently stabilized, but the healers left my room one by one grimly, not saying anything. I had no idea what my own fate was. Resigned, I settled my intangible body in the equally intangible (for me anyway) chair by the bed. I watched the shallow rise and fall of my chest for another hour before I became restless and even more frustrated. I tried to get out of the room once more, nothing. I closed my eyes and imagined myself back in the Nothing. More nothing. Finally, I decided to test my voice.

"Albus, damn it. Where are you when I need you?"

"Right here, of course."

I started violently, and if I had a body I would have fallen out of my chair. I could hear my voice as if I was a real body talking aloud, but I could also see and hear quite well Albus Dumbledore, who was perched on the end of the hospital bed patting my body's foot as if he had been there the whole bloody time.

"Where? How? What are you doing here?" I spluttered incoherently. I longed for an entire year to see Dumbledore again. I had consulted his portrait a thousand times during my tenure as Headmaster regarding all matters. My heart broke into a million little shards seeing him as if he were alive just sitting there, his eyes twinkling with laughter at my inability to speak properly. Oh, how I longed to beg his forgiveness for killing him and rail against him for making me do it at the same time. If I was lucky I would exist in this realm long enough to do both, but for the moment I was afraid he would disappear.

Dumbledore laughed, stood, walked behind my chair and put his hand on my shoulder, and I could _feel _it. This time I was unable to control my reaction and I was floating again above my body. Albus was sitting in the chair I had just vacated by the time I had the courage to look down again.

"How did you do that? I can't even feel myself!" What a waste of a question. He could disappear at any moment and all I could think about was how he had _touched _me?

Albus remained sitting in the chair not leaving. If anything he looked more solid the longer I stared at him.

"Don't be silly, you can feel yourself, you just have to concentrate a little. In this realm, there are some things that will just take a little more effort. Strike that, it takes a little more desire to achieve the result. You just have to want it badly enough." Dumbledore raised his hands as if gesturing me to try again, although I never actually tried to feel my own body in front of him.

Ignoring the technicalities of what Dumbledore may or may not have seen I raised my own hands in front of my face again. Strangely enough I really did desire to feel the contact of my own skin in a way I hadn't before. When I tried earlier it was just a simple test of what I could do with my ethereal body, the second time I really craved the sensation of my palms rubbing together. When my hands joined I felt the rough skin of my palms striking together, and if my current form had needed air, I would have struggled to breathe so relieved was I to feel my own hands. I reached up to feel the stubble of a day's growth on my face and was pleasantly surprised to feel it there as expected.

"See, simple as that," Dumbledore said with a tone of finality as if the current subject was closed.

I shook my head. Even in death Albus never changed. "Where am I, Albus, and how did you come to be here?"

"You asked. Apparently I am in high demand today."

I ignored his second statement even though it piqued my curiosity, but I chose to focus on how he got to me instead. He was right, I did ask where he was, but did that mean could have summoned anyone?

"Are you saying I could have asked for anyone? My mother? Lily?" I was longing to see them just as much as Albus. It was a wonder why I even thought of him first.

Dumbledore twinkled and smiled irritatingly, just as always. "That is correct, but before you ask, no, you cannot summon them now that you have summoned me. Only one of us can come back to this dimension to visit with the living. I am flattered that your heart desired me. I should have figured it would be Lily, but perhaps there are reasons for that."

I supposed that if I was really truly dead, Lily would have been my first choice, but I knew that I wasn't so calling on Albus was not really a shock. It was always him I would go to when I needed help. I was still disappointed that I could not call for my other loved ones though. Which led me to my next question.

"Can I go to them, if they cannot come to me?" I asked.

"Certainly, if that is your wish, but you would have to be dead and clearly you are not."

"What if I wanted to be? What if I want to leave all this behind," I swept a hand over my body, "and die? I have no reason to live anymore."

"Of course you do, Severus, or you would be dead," Dumbledore said forcefully as if I were missing an obvious answer to a simple question. "You are in the in-between dimension for lack of better words. We never really get around to this naming this place. You are not wholly alive because your body is in a coma, but nor are you dead. You, Severus, are being presented with a very rare opportunity: a choice. Death, and I mean Death the entity or being, and not merely the act of leaving one's mortal body, is not evil like he is brought out to be. People fear him because of what he represents, but sometimes he is undecided on whether or not he wants someone so he puts them into situations that allow them to make the choice for him. It is a bit of a game really. You are a really complicated person and you intrigue him. He knows that you wish death with the equal strength that you wish to live, but he believes you don't know what you want to live for so he is going to give you the chance to decide."

"Then I'll decide right now!" I cried. Somehow I had lowered myself to the bed and was sitting on the edge directly in front of Albus, and right next to my slowly moving chest. Albus perched his elbows on the arms of the chair so he could steeple his fingers and leaned over them to look at me more closely.

"Nice try, Severus. Death, who by the way would like to be called Odin this week, he cycles between all culture's names for him, has some rules you have to follow. He _thinks_ he knows what is best for you so he is giving you limitations in your quest that only you can overcome. You already overcame one which was the ability to feel your own flesh. You had to desire it with all your heart for it to happen, and it did. You can try touching something else if you like."

Albus paused as if giving me the opportunity to take the time and try to touch something else. I had no pressing desire to do so. The imagined sensation of sitting was currently enough of a comfort for me. I had already had enough of trying new things for the moment.

"What are the rules then?" I asked.

"That is the tricky part. I can't tell you what the rules are, or more appropriately what your limitations will be. The only thing I can tell you with absolute certainty is that your coma will last for exactly six months from today. On that day you will be forced to make a choice between life and death."

I thought I was robbed of everything, but there was a chance for redemption of one thing. I just had to decide what I wanted to be robbed of more, my life or my death. At that moment the choice would have been too simple. But now, looking back I can see how wrong I would have been.

* * *

**A/N: Okey dokey, first chapter of a new story. This story is loosely based (and I mean loosely) on a one shot I wrote called It's A Long Way Up. Normally I wouldn't ask for reviews in order to decide if a story is worth writing or not, but this time I am going to. This story probably isn't that original, I wouldn't know, I haven't read enough fan fictions to be a good judge, but I am excited to write it, so please, please, please, give me some feedback. This story is not beta'd. I will do my best to keep the errors down to a minimum, but I was never great shakes at grammar when I was in school and I think I was probably fifteen the last time I had a lesson. That was a very long time ago. If I break a rule pretty consistently, just kindly point it out and I will correct my mistake in future chapters. Since I am admitting that I am prone to errors, please don't leave me a review with every single one and then tell me you could never read my story because it is so poorly written. Just don't read it, and leave it at that. But I really do want you to read my story so I will try to keep the mistakes to a minimum. **

**This story is written in a style I have never tried before. First person perspective is new to me, and I usually have a different sort of flow to it. Bear with me while I get used to it. This chapter is a prologue of sorts and is much shorter than the chapters that will follow. Thanks for stopping by and please review!**

**evenstar**


	2. Unquiet Reflections

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 2

Unquiet Reflections

"So that is it, then? No more words of wisdom? I have six months to decide my own fate, during which time I will somehow, on my own, discover the limitations of my imprisonment in this dimension?"

I was hovering over Albus as he reclined casually in the hospital chair as if this was news he delivered every day. As far as I knew, it was something he did on a regular basis. Albus Dumbledore was a popular man after all. He said so himself. Currently, he was looking at me as if I was a precocious child who did not know his own potential. To be truthful, I felt like one.

"Albus, you do realize that I have not had to make one single decision for myself in over twenty years? Everything I have said or done has been in service to one master or another." I was beginning to feel angry. I just wanted to die. Why are some things so easy for some people?

Albus must have sensed my consternation because in typical 'Albus' fashion he blew me off. "You have months to figure it out. Come now, sit. I know you have questions about the war and the final outcome."

I glared at my long time mentor and friend with the entire wrath that I could muster in my floating body. I hoped that my black eyes did not lose any of their menacing quality in my current form. It would have been truly hell indeed for me if even my ability to glare was taken away from me. Hadn't I already lost enough? The arrival of several healers in the room prevented me from having to obey Albus' command right away. While the healers poured more potions down my throat and performed more charms I watched debating whether I wanted to give in to my burning curiosity over the outcome of the war or be obstinate and try to find a way to order the ghost out of the room. I did desire it enough, I believe, to be able to send him away. I was deathly curious, however. Since the moment I thought I was dead I really had not had the opportunity to reflect on anything I wanted to. I wanted to think about my life, the people I'd lost, the roles that I'd played in their deaths.

"Still stable," one of the healers said to the other interrupting my thoughts.

The other healer nodded. "He should be awake. Strange that he isn't. I mean in a day or two he should be fine."

Healer One looked at me confusedly. "Did you hear what they are saying about him? How he is a hero?"

Now _I_ was confused. Who was a hero? Potter? Probably, but that was hardly news. Shockingly Healer One pushed a piece of hair out of my eye while she looked at my sallow face. Whether it was out of a caregiver's habit, or some strange concern I will never know.

"I wonder how many visitors he will have now that Potter has vindicated him." Healer Two said as the pair walked out of the room. I turned to follow them, once more slamming into the invisible barrier. They must have been talking about me, unless someone else was in the hospital and actually expecting visitors. Surely, I would be getting none. Albus blasted Dumbledore was twinkling behind me so loudly I could practically hear him crackling like a bowl of rice cereal. Damn those healers for making want to ask Dumbledore questions about the war just as badly as I wanted to kick him out. Alas, if I was going to be stuck in this limbo until I made a very important decision I would have to get all the facts. Even if it did cost me some of my pride.

"Very well, then, Albus. What happened?" I asked with a longsuffering sigh as if he was wasting my time. Unfortunately, for the first time in my miserable existence I had entirely too much time on my hands.

Albus smiled widely like the Cheshire cat with a fat caterpillar in his mouth. "We won, of course."

I stared at him annoyed and astonished, but mostly annoyed. "Is that all?"

He nodded happily and I wanted to rip the beard from his ghostly face.

"That is all _I_ can tell you. You will have to learn the rest on your own, but it is quite a story."

I was beginning to lose it. I could feel the steam coming out of my ears and sure enough in my vapory state, there appeared to be steam coming out of my ears. More likely though, my form was just blurring as rage overtook me.

"Leave me, you doddering old fool. Leave now."

Dumbledore rose from his chair and stretched languidly. "I will leave now, because you desire it and I have no choice, but we will talk again soon."

With that Albus disappeared as if he'd just Apparated away. If that was all he could tell me about the battle I didn't want him there. I didn't want to play games or fish for answers. I really did understand that Albus was being manipulated by Odin himself, but that didn't make it any easier for me to forgive him for being evasive. Dumbledore was a master manipulator if nothing else. He successfully manipulated me and Potter well enough. Grooming us both to do his bidding when the time came whether he realized it or not. I probably would have gotten over Lily years ago and moved on if he didn't continually remind me of the role I played in her death, however unintentional it was. I had to think of that in order to kill Albus. It was one of the two things he had done in his life that I deemed unforgivable. The other was grooming Potter to walk right into his death. I still didn't know if he was even alive. For the entire pretense I made about hating Potter, I actually loved him. How could I not? He was Lily's son after all. Yes, he had James' face, but he had Lily's heart right along with her eyes, and not a day passed that I didn't wish he was mine. The things I could have groomed that boy to do. But he was James' and I forced decades of hate, hurt, and regret on the one thing that could have been mine.

Lily could hold a grudge though. As much as Harry was like her, I doubted he would ever forgive me for killing Dumbledore, his hero. I called Lily a Mudblood when I was an angry teenager and she never forgave me. I'm not stupid, of course I knew she was really being unforgiving of my associations with the Death Eaters, but if she had forgiven me, maybe things would have been different. I will never know. Harry had a far more logical reason to hold a grudge. I tortured him for years and then I killed his mentor. I taunted him about his dead father and godfather too just because I could. That alone deserves a lifetime shunning from the boy. Nobody knows the torture of having to see the living embodiment of fifty percent of what you loved and fifty percent of what you hated day in and day out. It is a maddening torture I can assure anyone who has any doubt. And the poor boy, which once had a doting family, grew up abused, neglected, and then prepped to die for a cause in which he was unknowingly thrown. He was a true champion though, because he fought for what was right even though he didn't have to. He had no guilty conscience like me, he could have said no, and no one would have said 'but it's your duty, Harry.' I didn't have a choice. I fought the good fight not only because I believed in it, but because I was guilty and I needed to repent. I was willing to give anything to save my soul, but instead I took them. Lily's, James, Albus.

I didn't want to die. Not when Nagini's cage closed over my head. I even begged Voldemort to spare my life. Now I have no idea what I want. How is a person supposed to make this kind of decision? How many people, not suicidal or emotionally disturbed people, sit around and actually contemplate whether they would like to live or die in six months time? How is that even supposed to work? How was I supposed to make that decision locked up in a hospital room?

For hours I pondered over those questions while I hovered above my body. I was refusing to sit in the chair. For one, I couldn't actually feel the chair and I didn't get tired in my state, but because my situation wasn't normal, and I wasn't in the mood to try to make it normal by executing such a mundane human action as sitting down. I did cross my arms over my chest as is my habit and I scowled down on all the healers that came in and out of my room. My body was fine. I appeared to be just sleeping, that was all, and I couldn't help but wonder how weak I would be if and when I chose to wake. Dumbledore said that I could have whatever I wanted it if I desired it enough. Perhaps I could desire a time limit of less than six months.

Nothing changed for an entire twenty-four hours more. I ran a list of all the people I wanted to know the well-being of. It included just about everyone from Hogwarts. Every student and teacher for starters. I was particularly concerned about the Malfoys, and of course Potter. Minerva McGonagall was a dear friend before I killed Voldemort and I longed to be in her confidence once more. I hoped she was all right. There were so many I couldn't list them all, but I hoped every unrepentant Death Eater was burning in hell with Voldemort. I did not have the strength to be forgiving towards any of them, except for the Malfoys. I knew they didn't want to be where they were anymore. It was Draco I cared about the most. I was angry with Narcissa for following along with Lucius for as long as she did, but I still cared for her.

Finally, my thoughts wandered to Granger. Hermione Granger, bushy haired, freckle faced, know it all, whose life saving ministrations put me in my current state. I hated her for that. I could have just died in that shack. She should have let me just die. I was _awful_ to her and she still came back. Why in the name of everything sacred would she come back to save a murdering Death Eater who tormented her? She even cried. Out of all the students I have ever taught, hers was the only mind I truly wished to connect with. She was brilliant almost to the point of stupidity. She allowed her cool logic to override gut instincts and intuition at every turn. Everything she did was to the letter of instruction. It amazed me that she could do magic at all the way she practiced such utter control over everything. But she was amazingly talented and could be so much more if she would just open herself up to the possibilities before her. What brought her back to me? I could still see her pouring potions down my throat and beating the floor around my head as her hot tears mingled with the blood and sweat on my face. It was ironic that someone as predictable as her could be such a mystery to me.

Another half day passed and I was staring out the window looking at the Muggles as they walked the London street below when things began to get interesting. I was on the verge of caving in to my boredom and loneliness and summoning Albus back when one of the healers came into the room bearing a large bouquet of flowers in a vase and a card. He set them on the bedside table and paused to look at me curiously before leaving. I recognized him as the same healer who mentioned someone 'being a hero' the day before.

Throughout that night the room filled with gifts, cards, flowers, letters, and many other tokens of what could only be described as goodwill. Sometimes the healers would read one of the open cards that sat in a flower arrangement aloud so that I could hear what it said. They mostly said things like 'we underestimated you' or 'get well soon.' Most of them were unsigned, but the Weasley's sent one promising a visit. I thought that was odd. I tried to grab one of the letters to read but my hands just swept through them like the smoke that I was.

"You are quite the popular man, Severus."

I turned quickly to see Albus once more perched in the chair as if he had been there all night. I was looking out the window again at the rising sun wishing I could go outside and get some answers to my questions when I heard his voice.

"I can't imagine why," I responded drolly.

"You're a hero, Severus. Everyone knows. It was in all the papers."

I stared at Dumbledore unable to speak for a moment. If all he was going to do was treat me like some sort of idiot he could just leave again.

"And where am I to go to read a newspaper, I wonder?" I said icily. I would have happily committed another murder at that point just to get my greasy hands on a newspaper or even one of those blasted letters so I might have any inkling about what was going on. The healers were useless. They talked of the war, but nothing useful. Usually they just commented on my state and moved on.

"Forgive me, Severus that was rude. Of course you can't just pick up a newspaper. I mean that the story of the Final Battle has finally spread and your part in the war is no longer a secret." Dumbledore made a sweeping gesture over my gifts as if that explained everything. "You are about to have your first visitors."

Albus was looking behind me and I whipped my head around to see what he was looking at. Sure enough, Potter, Weasley, and of course Granger all walked into the room. Potter, alive and whole, walked right into my room. I felt a relief unlike any other knowing that he had survived the battle. He didn't have to die after all. They looked exhausted and thin, but there was an unmistakable hardness about them as well. I could tell that each of them had developed that thick skin that only battle and loss could provide. Harry and Ron were both so tall. I never remembered them being that tall. They both needed haircuts and shaves and it was undeniable that those young boys before me were now men.

Granger had changed the most. Her once bushy hair was weighted down with extra length as it flowed down her back. The curls were less frizzy and more defined. She was always slender, but a year of living on the run had carved her down even further and her hands looked sinewy and warn. Her eyes looked overlarge in her face, but her body showed the evidence of womanhood. Despite her thinness there were slight curves that not even her loose clothes could hide. She was almost beautiful. It was her expression that kept her from being so. She had a look of ill repressed rage about her. Her mouth was set in a hard line and her eyes flashed when she looked from one thing to the next. In her left hand she clutched a vial tightly. I recognized the substance inside as memories, and then the proverbial light bulb clicked on in my mind. Those were probably my memories. That was how everyone knew my role in the war. Either they had seen my memories or heard about them. I wonder how much people knew. Potter probably let his friends see them, no doubt. But what of everyone else?

I felt just as awkward as they looked and I was grateful that they couldn't see my expression. I was also thankful that I was not in the unfortunate position of having to come up with something to say. Harry approached the left side of my bed where Dumbledore was perched looking on amusedly and Granger and Weasley walked up the right. I could not help but notice the protective hand that Ron placed on Granger's, but she shook it off gently.

"Uh, Professor," Harry began tentatively. He looked across my body to his friends for encouragement. "This is ridiculous guys, he can't hear me."

"Mum said that people in comas can sometimes hear what you tell them, and that they wake up with all kinds of memories from what people said. Look at it this way, you can tell him what you want now, and he won't be able to kill you for it until much later, if he even remembers it," Weasley said. He was right about one thing, I could hear them. He did raise another question though. Would I remember all this if I woke again?

Harry shrugged in a way I'd seen a million times before and looked at my face for a long minute. I didn't like how he was studying me and it felt strange to watch so I glanced at Granger instead. She was staring too, but she looked so angry with me. There was no mistaking that her anger was directed at me. I wondered what she was upset about.

"I just wanted to say thanks. For the memories. I know that sounds stupid and like a line from some romance, but thanks. They saved my life." Harry held his hand out for the vial of memories and Hermione gave them to him. "This jar is spelled shut so no one in here can just take the vial and see your memories, but I wanted to return them so you had them as soon as you wake up."

I didn't want the damn memories back and it was just like Potter to make a grand gesture that whole world would find touching but would just make me angry. I hated having to show them to him and now I was faced with a whole confluence of people who knew my deepest secrets.

"And, I just wanted to say that I uh, understand about Dumbledore. You did what you had to do, and I guess that's all. Get well, soon." Harry and his friends stayed there for another minute or so before leaving. Neither Weasley nor Granger said a word, but Granger did look back at me one more time before she exited the room.

"Well," Dumbledore exclaimed clapping his hands together once, "now you know that Harry survived. Thanks to you I might add."

"Hmmph," I snorted in reply. The relief of seeing Potter alive was gone and now I just wanted my privacy back. My room was going to be open to all manner of visitors now no doubt.

"Don't worry, Severus. The hospital is not going to allow just anyone in. Only a select few, handpicked by McGonagall herself. She'll be in soon." Dumbledore began wandering around the room inspecting my gifts.

"Now you're going to start giving me information?" I asked sarcastically.

Dumbledore stopped to inspect a bag of sweets sitting uselessly on a small table that was set up to hold some of my gifts.

"I miss sweets, sometimes. It was one indulgence in life I should have wished to carry on," he said in response to my question.

I grumbled impatiently under my breath, but that never did a thing to persuade Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore to speak. He was too damn self-important for that. Of course his mentioning that did bring up something I hadn't bothered to think about, and that was not being hungry, or tired, or having the ability to smell. Now that I noticed it those simple and mundane things of humanity were conspicuously absent. Never one to eat or sleep much, I found myself eager to do both. At least my vision and hearing were intact.

Dumbledore looked at me, I mean my body, not _me,_ and gave it a careful examination. He placed a hand on my chest and I could see the rise and fall of my breathing beneath his splayed fingers.

"You're heart is strong, Severus," he looked up into my eyes then, "it will remain that way as long as you have a desire to live."

I was about to retort with something rude and reminiscent of the cranky potions master when I realized he was giving me information. I was best to not screw it up. What he was telling me was that the physical health of my body would reflect the psychical health my mind. I understood that even if I could not and did not want to envision it. It was hard enough to see myself in such a state, but to watch my body _waste, _that made me wish for a quicker death. No sooner had I thought that then I could see Dumbledore's eyes flash down to his palm on my chest. My heartbeat had faltered. Even I could see that. My breaths were uneven momentarily, but as the thought of being dead subsided from my mind so did my breaths even back out.

Dumbledore's eyes looked saddened and heavy with grief. From the moment I saw him the first time in this limbo he'd looked just as I remembered he did about twenty years, long silvery beard, sparkling blue eyes. Now he looked more like the Dumbledore he'd been when I killed him. Older, withered, grieving.

"I was hoping you would be more sure of what you wanted, Severus. You could be my tragedy or my triumph, my son."

He was making me feel emotional, and the wetness I could see in his eyes was not helping. "You don't seem to have it so bad. You are the same as always."

Albus looked at me sternly. He knew I was avoiding the real topic, and that was my inability to let people care about me. It was something he reminded me of constantly just as he was forcing me to remember the love I felt for people long gone. It was the worst sort of dichotomy having to love the dead, but somehow let the living in. I found it difficult to do both, not that he ever seemed to understand.

"The fact that your body is still alive should be evidence enough that you don't belong where I am," he said rather forcefully for him.

It was more than I could take. "How am I supposed to decide that for myself, then, when I am stuck in this room?"

I was shouting and if I could throw something I would have.

"Then leave!" Dumbledore was frightening when he was angry, even in his ghostly form I could feel the vestiges of his power engulfing my own spirit.

"I can't. I have tried," I exclaimed through gritted teeth. "I have not even been able to venture down the hall, Albus."

Albus seemed to be losing his patience with me and I found it frustrating. Why was he getting angry? His existence would remain the same whether I lived or died. I know he wanted me to live though. I would be a fool not to recognize that.

"Why do you think you can't leave, Severus?" he demanded.

I ran my hands through my hair and pulled a little enjoying the sensation of at least being able to feel my own body. "It's because I don't desire it enough, is that it? Is that what it will always boil down to? Whether I want it badly enough or not?"

Albus lifted his palm from my chest and looked at me with those old, saddened eyes. "There is more to it than just desiring something, Severus. You have to know what it is that you desire."

With that he winked out of existence again just as quickly and quietly as he'd come. I looked at the space he'd been moments before feeling a complete fool. Of course, how could I possibly wish to do something if I don't know what it is I want? I couldn't leave the room, or my body, because I didn't know where to go.

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**A/N: Next chapter in which Severus gets to see a little more than his hospital room and has a few more visitors will be up next Sunday. Once again unbeta'd, but I did do a spell check so it should be at least readable.**

**Thanks to all those who reviewed and/or put this story on alert. It is much appreciated!**


	3. Cowards Die Many Times

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Harry Potter except for the books, some DVDs, and a calendar. Oh, and I have this Voldemort replica wand that my boss gave me for Christmas a few years ago. It is really cool, but I don't own the characters or anything JKR created.

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 3

Cowards Die Many Times

I was intent on pondering where I wanted to go the most when I was once again interrupted by a slew of Healers hell-bent on filling my body with nutritive and restorative potions. After seeing my faltering heartbeat for that pure moment when I longed for death I began to wonder if I really needed the potions at all. Perhaps my body was in some sort of magical stasis created by Odin, or Hades or whomever he wanted to be that day. Did he have wife called Persephone? I would have to ask Albus next time he came around. If only there was a way to drive the Healers out of my room to test the theory. So far not a one of them had given any indication that they recognized the presence of any other spirits in the room. I, of course, recognized a good deal of them having taught them in potions myself.

There was Lucy Potts, Hufflepuff, who always wore her bangs spiked impossibly high, which was the fashion when she was in school, but needless to say was a bit outdated now. James Thompson, Gryffindor, class of 1989, an annoying prankster, but decent student. I always worked extra hard to make sure Gryffindors could barely scrape more than A in potions, but he always managed at least an E. Few students could get an O, the insufferable twit, Granger being one exception. There was also a few healers from my own school days and it was quite enjoyable listening to them drone on about how they knew I was a good guy all along, etc., etc., etc. They hated me in school, of course. Everyone did, and the feeling was quite mutual.

In any case, none of them could sense me, or Dumbledore. Maybe there senses were too dulled from being around ghosts or near ghosts constantly since they worked in a hospital. More likely the lot of them was too dull and shallow to even recognize the paranormal if it was choking them which I longed to do with my icy fingers. Either way, I was unnoticed right underneath their very noses. What was really infuriating was that none of them would ever give me any details on my particular heroics. What kinds of memories did the world see? What did they know about my hand in Dumbledore's death? What did they know about Lily? If only Potter would come in and spill his guts in typical Gryffindor fashion I might have answers.

Finally, the Healers left my body at peace and I was able to concentrate once more on where I might go. The best place to go would be somewhere I could perhaps glean some specifics on the outcome of the war. Truthfully the best place for that would be some Death Eater hideout, but I did not want their biased information and the chances of them being dispersed worldwide to avoid capture were extremely high. Even if I did go somewhere filled with people knowledgeable of the Final Battle how would I persuade them to talk of it in my current state. I could sit around for days in Minerva McGonagall's office and hear nothing but talk of her new tartan couch slip. Minerva had some puckered and piercing stares, and I respected her immensely, but she could be quite dull for my tastes when left to her own devices.

The most likely group of people probably still discussing every minute detail of the last year would be the Gryffindor trio. Potter and Weasley liked to always feel involved and I had no doubt in my mind they were hatching one scheme after another to round up the last of the wayward Death Eaters. Granger would be attached to them hissing suggestions and instructions into their ears, never shutting up long enough see if either of the boys had the ability to succeed on their own. She was helpful to the point of interference and of all the things I tried to teach her that was the one area where I failed miserably. None of that made an iota's difference because I would not even know where to find them.

Instead of trying to figure out where people were I tried to remember where I was happiest. Happiest. What a laughable concept. I am not a happy person, nor do I recall ever being one. I take that back. I was happy with Lily before our fight right after OWLs in fifth year. I certainly did my best to make James Potter look good that day. Before that day we had the park. I still lived in the house on Spinners End and spent every school break there, but I never went back to the park I met Lily in. I was always happy there. From there I could not hear my parents fighting and I could spy on Lily all I wanted. I can admit that spying is what I did at first. I did not want to associate myself with her until I knew if she was a witch or not. It was a joyous day for me when I saw her float off of swing and was finally sure. It was not as if I did not like Muggles, it was just that I was fascinated with what was forbidden and in my house it was magic. I saw my mother snap her wand for that alcoholic bastard she called husband and it made me want magic more. She gave up her magic for me, so that I could go to Hogwarts. One does not easily forget such a sacrifice even if I am still angry with my mother for not simply leaving Tobias so that we could be together and practice magic in peace. The Prince side of me understands, when we latch on to someone, it tends to be for life. For better or worse is taken quite literally. My mother loved Tobias despite it all, and I loved Lily even though she never loved me.

I was beginning to get bored with my ponderings. If there was one thing near death had taught me it was that Lily did not have the hold on me that she used to. The park idea was out, but what was in? I had no idea. Wouldn't death be easier than that? No more indecision, frustration, boredom. What was there for me to live for? The war was over with Voldemort defeated. Dumbledore was gone, and the boy that I was sworn to protect had fulfilled his duties and was no longer my charge. My only pursuits in life beyond that were the education of witless children and espionage. Bleak indeed and I could see no reason to go back. Despair overwhelmed me and my immaterial body slunk into the stiff hospital chair in the age old habit of human suffering.

There was an arrangement of purple perennial geraniums sitting on the table by my left elbow and I fixed my gaze on it, resolutely ignoring the lurching in my chest as my corporeal heart reflected my emotions. Only a few times have the overwhelming weight of life's consequences rendered me in such a state. I am not a particularly emotional person, nor am I prone to outbursts of self-pity, but I sat there shamelessly staring at the perennial feeling hot incandescent tears streaking down my worthless ghostly face. It was the first of many lows yet to come.

I have no idea how much time passed while I regained control of my countenance. My only comfort was that there were no living souls around that could witness my internal disgrace and the recitation of the geraniums properties in my mind. _Styptic. Cytophylactic. Haemostatic. Cicatrisant. Vulnerary._ To the unaware a geranium would seem an unlikely gift to give a man in a coma, but in actuality the sturdy plant is an essential component in many different potions meant to curb bleeding, heal wounds, and soothe the individual. Either the benefactor was uncreative and sent a pot of one of the most prolific flowers found in English gardens to my room, or they knew how symbolic it would be to send a healing plant to a wounded potions master.

It was then that Minerva McGonagall entered the room. My bodily and spiritual heart gave a particularly loud thud in reaction to her entrance. I was eternally pleased to see her, not just because she was someone whose friendship I missed, but because her expression clearly said she came in peace. We had not spared two kind words for each other since Dumbledore's death, not that I blamed her, and it brought great comfort to my aching heart to see her there.

I stared in transfixed disbelief at Minerva as she watched my unstable heart beat beneath the thin polyester hospital sheet and night shirt. She was wearing the typical green tartan overcoat over her long teaching robes with an overlarge hat with a feather in it. It reminded of an oversized Robin Hood cap, but it was perfectly suited to Minerva and looked quite in place over tightly coiffed and graying hair. Her face was lined and her piercing blue eyes looked ancient and shadowed with grief and sorrow. She lifted a hand to her mouth and took in a great shaky breath. When she blinked a lone tear fell down her weathered cheek and landed on a newspaper that she held in her other hand leaving a dark spot.

Quickly and silently she moved forward to sit in the very chair my iridescent body was occupying. With swiftness only a ghost can achieved I moved from my spot so she would not sit on my literal spirit and hovered on the other side of my bed facing her.

"Oh, Severus." The words were spoken in the manner of long last friends seeing each other again, which was not far from the truth. Unfortunately, for the reunion was going to be woefully one-sided. "I should have never doubted you. Albus told me to trust you, but that was before he died and never imagined that he meant to continue trusting you after that."

Of course not.

She said nothing for another moment and glanced about the room instead. Her eyes fixed on the same pot of geraniums that I had studied so assiduously moments before. She smiled a small smile and picked up the little card attached to a plastic fork driven into the soil. A small act, but one that I would give what was left of my soul to be able to perform just once again, if only to read a few words about the outside world. To my infinite gratitude she read the card aloud, giving me the first gift I'd had since being thrust into this limbo.

"'_Professor Snape, I know you are not accustomed to well wishes and would not appreciate platitudes. Therefore, I will only wish you well and hope that maybe this plant is useful to you should you wake in winter. Sincerely, Hermione Granger.'_ Fitting that she would give a restorative. She cares about you, Severus. We all do," Minerva said as she jammed the card back into the pot with unnecessary force.

Hermione Granger. Her name had come up an awful lot since she saved my physical body in the Shrieking Shack. There was always the chance that it was more salient simply because I was now primed to be more in tune to it because of that, but there was more to it than that. My duties as ill represented protector of Potter extended to his closest friends as well, therefore I watched her too. With plenty of fascination I can safely add now, but at the time I still could not see past her detestable habit of interfering when people should not have or did not want her help. Even now I believed she was trying to impress upon me her limitless book knowledge regarding what potions ingredients that are both healing and make pretty flower arrangements. She meant no harm, but I truly hated her for it, and it was then that I really started blaming her for putting me in the state I was in. I did not care for her at that moment and I did not want her to care for me.

"Severus," Minerva said quietly interrupting my thoughts. "I sincerely wish I had known your part in Albus' death. We, the Order, could have protected you and made your time as Headmaster easier. I see now that what you did protected the students to the best of your ability, but I wish you had told me."

_I wanted to tell you, a thousand times._

"I don't blame you, of course," her tone became sharper and her brogue grew heavier. "I blame that senile, secretive, conniving old man. Oh, how I miss him and his shrewd ways. I miss you too, Severus. I know you can hear me, I can feel you in this room."

I started at her last statement. I was wondering when someone was going to sense me. Certainly it would be her; she is a formidable witch with great sensitivity to match her talent and power.

"This article came out in the Prophet today and I wanted to read it to you. It essentially sums up the last week. Can you believe it has only been a week since the end of it all? It feels like a lifetime." She shook the newspaper open and folded it back to reveal the desired article. "Here goes.

'In what can only be referred to as the most memorable battle in history, He Who Must Not Be Named, also known as Lord Voldemort or Tom Riddle, 71, was defeated by young hero Harry Potter, 17 of Little Whinging, Surrey. For several years Harry Potter was both exalted as the Wizarding World's Savior and denounced as a fraud, shame on those who thought the latter. Believed to have escaped to avoid capture by both Death Eaters and a corrupt local government, Potter was actually on a frightening and dangerous journey to locate several pieces of Lord Voldemort's soul all encased in Horcruxes, a rare but dangerous piece of magic that only one who is truly evil would willingly perform. Along with his companions, Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, and clues given him by deceased headmaster Albus Dumbledore, Potter was able to locate and destroy the Horcruxes rendering Tom Riddle mortal once again. Potter and company arrived at Hogwarts for the Final Battle just after retrieving another Horcrux, Hufflepuff's cup, at Gringott's Bank in a break in that will go down in the annuls of most notable events in time. Their mission at Hogwarts was not to fight the Final Battle, but to seek out what they believed to be one of the last pieces of Voldemort's soul, a diadem once belonging to Rowena Ravenclaw.

We all know that Voldemort arrived with his loyal followers in tow which was fortuitous as it was unfortunate for the Golden Trio, for Voldemort's pet snake Nagini was also a Horcrux. Neville Longbottom, 17, was the one who ultimately vanquished the snake using the Sword of Gryffindor. In an exclusive from Harry Potter himself, we learned that the sword was actually placed in his possession by none other than Severus Snape, 38. Severus Snape you say? The very man who Potter accused of murdering Albus Dumbledore was also the very man who provided Harry Potter with the means of destroying Voldemort. Unfortunately for us all, we do not know the full details of Snape's involvement with Albus Dumbledore, but it is clear now after Harry Potter's testimony that Severus Snape was acting under direct orders and was indeed working as a spy and feeding Death Eater information to Dumbledore. Due to Severus Snape being in a coma he cannot be questioned, but under oath and Veritaserum Harry Potter insists on his innocence.

In the Final minutes before the seminal moment when Voldemort was killed by a rebounding curse Potter told Voldemort that not only was Severus Snape loyal to Albus Dumbledore, but that he was not the master of a particular wand that Voldemort sought. It was in fact Dumbledore's wand, a wand that Voldemort believed to be the Death Stick, the Wand of Destiny, the very wand fabled to belong to one of the Peverell brothers in Beadle the Bards children's story. Potter insists that the wand is no such thing, but Voldemort was led to believe it so. Potter and his friends, Weasley and Granger, witnessed Voldemort ordering his snake to bite Severus Snape and kill him. Fortunately for quick thinking and ingenuity Snape was protected against the venom and was quickly transported to St. Mungo's Hospital where he remains today.

Before Voldemort died he also heard tell of Snape's devotion to Lily Potter, Harry's mother. It was a shock to all in attendance to learn that the cantankerous potions master with a reputation for cruelty found room to love in his black heart, but this battle has surprised us all. _'We always knew the git had it in him,' _quotes George Weasley, 20, twin brother of the late Fred Weasley who was killed at the Final Battle. Needless to say the day was filled with surprises at every turn. Harry Potter, infamous for using simple spells against great wizards, defeated Voldemort with a perfectly timed Expelliarmus. Voldemort issued the Killing Curse at the same moment, but it rebounded on himself, ending everything.

At this time Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and Hermione Granger refuse to give interviews, but keep posted for more information. For complete details on the Final Battle's sequence of events and lists of the dead and most wanted, turn to page nine.'"

Minerva took a deep breath and refolded the newspaper before setting it on the table by the flower pot. The article was short but informative without giving away important details. I could not help but notice that the Order was not mentioned, and I found it uncharacteristically wise of Harry to announce that Dumbledore's wand was not the fabled Wand of Destiny. If news got out of that, crazed wizards from around the world would tear down Hogwarts brick by brick until they found it. It was already sickening enough that I had to stand by as Voldemort robbed Dumbledore's tomb to get it in the first place. So, the world did know of my love, or once love, I should say, for Lily Potter. I figured that already and had already gotten over it; I was more stunned to learn that Fred Weasley was dead. He was a brilliant wizard along with his twin. I was not yet ready to learn who else was lost. There was also no word of Harry's being a Horcrux and I was intensely curious as to how he survived that. Fortunately for me, McGonagall was not finished.

"There is a bit more that I wish to share with you," Minerva said as she cast a silencing charm around the room. "I have asked Harry to come and tell you his part in all of this. He has relayed every detail he could spare to me, but I suspect there is more to it that he would be willing to share with you. I am encouraging him in this because I believe it would be therapeutic for him, and informative for you should you be listening. It is not, however, my place to tell his story. I trust he will come soon. I did not know about Lily. I suspected an attachment during your school days, but that did last beyond your last year, and your hatred for Potter was so overt that I was left in little doubt of your feelings. I can see now how wrong I was about so many things. I hope you can forgive me for not being there with you when you needed me most. The entire staff feels the same way, and is in agreement when I say that given the proper opportunity, you would make a wonderful Headmaster."

I smiled sarcastically at that. Of course she would tout the thing I longed for most in the world when I was least likely to ever achieve it again.

"I can sense your expression, Severus and even imagine your acerbic smirk at what I say, but it is the truth. I am leaving now, but I wanted you to hear these things now just in case you decide to leave us. Whether you like it or not, you are a hero, no matter what you have been robbed of in your life, Severus. You need to smile. As one other famous bard said, 'the robbed man, who smiles, steals something from the thief.' If you come back to us, Severus, you can have everything back." Minerva reached out and placed her hand on top of my cold one for a fraction of a second before pushing herself up quickly and exiting the room.

Shakespeare also wrote that cowards die many times before their deaths, the valiant never taste of death but once. If that was the case than what was I? I failed to die like a hero. I also failed to live like a coward. I needed to find a way out, regardless of what that way may be.

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**A/N: Please review!!! The next chapter in which we move forward a month will be posted next Sunday. Hermione interactions are coming soon, so please be patient. This is after all, Severus' story. Thanks to those who have been kind enough to review, and thanks for being patient with the whole no beta thing.**


	4. People Are Usually The Happiest At Home

Disclaimer: I am not JKR

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 4

People Are Usually The Happiest At Home

And so a month passed. A little over a month actually, it was on Monday, May eleventh when I was taken down, and now it was the twenty-first of June, a Sunday. I remained in my little room staring at the walls and my body the entire time. Every time someone walked in the room I expected it to be Potter. I did not know that I wanted him to come until Minerva mentioned he would, and each day I found myself more and more disappointed that he did not arrive. Slowly the world returned to normal for the living as the war reduced itself to a memory for those not directly involved. The healers talked more as they attended me, and I was able to at least learn that I was the last of the injured to remain in hospital and that Kingsley Shacklebolt was made Minister of Magic officially. I expected he would do well; Shacklebolt was always sensible and intelligent. Being familiar with the Muggle government as well as the Magical he could do great things.

I also learned that Lavender Brown, Colin Creevey, and Vincent Crabbe were lost in the Final Battle. Combine Fred Weasley with the other two Gryffindors and that makes three Gryffindors for every Slytherin. I wouldn't be surprised if that were actually true. The only Slytherins who remained to fight were the Death Eaters, and they were grossly outnumbered by the members of the other four houses, Gryffindors of course being the highest in number. Foolish Gryffindors, always ready to run headfirst into trouble without a backwards glance. Naturally it was a Gryffindor who saved us. I will always discount my own part. After all, Dumbledore ceaselessly reminded me that I was sorted too soon, even after his death.

Albus was one of three visitors I had in that first month. While I was wasting away waiting for the Nothing to finally claim me, Albus would sit and regale me with stories of his youth or how he discovered the twelve uses or dragon's blood. Sometimes he would drone on and on about his favourite candy. I wanted to strangle him. Talking to his ghostly self was similar to talking to his portrait back at Hogwarts. It was not exactly him in the way that we were barred from talking about current events that we weren't both already privy too. He could not discuss the afterlife with me much to my disappointment. There were many dead that I wished to hear news of, but he was not able to speak of them either. The rules of my engagement remained the same, figure out what I want or wait six months for Death to decide. After referring to Death as Hades, however, Albus finally showed some signs of life.

"Hades rules the Underworld, Severus. He is not death." Albus glared at me over his half moon spectacles.

He had a good point, but I was not about to be corrected with good humour. "A distinction only you care about as far as I am concerned," I replied nastily. "I suppose you will have a grand old time discussing the Deathly Hallows with him for eternity."

"As a matter of fact, I will," he'd replied.

See? Nothing interesting happening with Albus.

My second visitor was once again Minerva. She was kind enough to read me a few more articles from the Daily Prophet. I learned the names of a few of the Death Eaters who'd been captured. I learned that Lucius Malfoy was in prison, Narcissa under house arrest, and Draco on probation and doing community service. He enjoyed that I am sure. I'd wished things for the Malfoy's could have been different, but still I was glad they did not receive harsher punishments. Narcissa was unfailingly loyal to Lucius and did as he asked at the cost of her ego, and sometimes her dignity. Draco was very dear to them both, and if it were not for their involvement with the Dark Arts, could have been a shining example of what a loving family should be.

Minerva also mentioned that the school governors and the faculty are collaborating on a proposal to bring back every student to repeat their previous year at Hogwarts. I am fully amenable to the idea considering that the education offered the last few years has been quite inadequate, particularly so in Defence. It is true that I coveted that position during my entire tenure, but was disappointed when I did. Albus giving me that position meant two things; first, once again the goal of securing something essential to the destruction of Voldemort, Slughorn's memory, put me in the typical position of having to sacrifice something in order for it to be possible and second, the curse on the position meant that it would be my last spent teaching at Hogwarts.

One might think being moved to the Defence position was not at all to my detriment since I wanted it so badly, but I wanted it under more honourable terms, in a time where I would be able to hone my craft just as I did potions over the years. In memoriam it is the potion class I miss and not Defence. I believe I have had enough of Defence now, something I would not have realised so aptly without the last year hovering over my head. I was wrong about not returning to Hogwarts as I was the ill-received Headmaster, but it makes my heart heavy to think I may never be allowed behind those walls again. Hogwarts was my home from the time I was eleven years old. I returned to teach at the tender age of twenty-one, barely older than my students, and since then the walls and corridors have become my constant companions. Often I would prowl the halls at night not to catch transgressing students, but feel the sentience of the building and listen to the magic as it whispered through cracks, and swept across floors and ceilings.

Minerva made me long for those corridors so badly that I almost felt a flicker of change in my being not unlike just before Apparation. At the time was staring at the blank hospital wall in front of me and I would bet my most expensive cauldron and a still beating dragon's heart that I saw it shimmer into the bricks of my old dungeon before I blinked and looked down at my body. Once I shifted my gaze everything sort of snapped back into place and I could not get it back. I felt as if my world was stolen from me all over again. Unfortunately, I had grown quite accustomed to watching my body, and the few visits I did get made me curious to see who else would arrive.

I did not have long to wait for on the first day of my fourth week I sensed someone in the room. I noticed that the door held open behind the healers for a bit longer than normal as they entered the room. I also heard the slight swish of fabric right next me, but not knowing what would happen if I passed through someone's body I was hesitant to move towards it. I was almost one hundred percent sure Potter was there under his wrapper and my heart started to quicken in anticipation of what news he might hold for me. My real heart sped as well and the healers surrounded my body and performed a series of diagnoses, confident that I was returning. I forced myself to calm down and relax long enough to convince the healers that there was no purpose in them remaining in the room longer than necessary.

After what felt like an eternity of the medical personnel marvelling over the wondrous change in my heart rate they all left, but it was not until every blasted lead healer in the place examined me. I was worried that my unseen visitor might leave, but he didn't, for at that point I was absolutely certain it was Potter underneath the legendary cloak that Death himself created. He didn't leave, however, and after the healers all left, I could detect the casting of silencing and locking spells on the door. They were cast silently which gave me my first doubts that it was Potter because he was abysmal at silent wand work. That little bit of magic was the only thing that subdued my total surprise when Hermione Granger pulled the cloak over her head and approached my bedside.

She was completely transformed from the tired and grieving person who had visited me over a month previously. Hermione face was not as thin and sallow looking, her hair grown longer than I had ever seen it tamed the curls into gentle waves down her back. The dark honey brown was spattered with streaks of dirty blonde from too many hours in the sun. Her frame was no longer childish, but womanly and obviously matured hidden as it was beneath loose fitting corduroy trousers and a summer jacket. Her eyes, always curious and bright held the most remarkable change. I never really noticed they were brown before, and not an ordinary brown, but a rich brown without the usual flecks of green or hazel that one might see in a brown eyed person. Her eyes were similar to mine in that steadiness of colour. They were also very deep and in those depths I could detect a range of emotions, sadness, weariness, relief, hope, and that ever flickering bit of anger that I noticed last time she came. I wondered what was making her angry more than anything else.

Granger raised a hand slowly and tentatively over my still one and let it hover over my lifeless fingers. Her fingernails were trimmed and clean like I remembered from her school days. There were a few scars on her hand, no doubt souvenirs of some battle she was too young to fight, but her bones were elegant and postured gracefully. In the wizarding world women are often wrapped in long flowing robes that cover everything but the hands, neck, and face. One learns to appreciate the beauty of those only visible parts, and Hermione Granger's hand was exquisite. My mind raced angrily at how inconceivable my train of thought had become. Obviously I had been alone too long to be finding my former student as attractive as I was at that moment. Nevertheless, I could not tear my eyes away from her and I could even imagine that I could feel the heat from her hand. I touched the backs of my fingers involuntary causing the sensation to go away.

After another beat, she pulled her hand up and away quickly as if she couldn't believe what she was about to do. I can understand her hesitation, never being a man who likes to be touched I showed it in my body language on a regular basis. Her constraint was probably attributed to that and a myriad of other things that I am in doubt in fault of. Part of me wished she had touched me, and the other part of me was smarting that she didn't. It felt like rejection.

Hermione turned away from my body and shifted towards the limp geranium sitting on my bedside table. It was beginning to wither as it did occasionally until the cleaning crew noticed it and gave it some water. The healers couldn't be bothered. She tsk'd at its state and pulled her wand out of her sleeve. After giving the geranium some water and casting a healing charm she nodded with satisfaction at its improved state. She was gazing at something behind the plant and I followed her eyes until I saw they were resting on the little bottle of swirling memories that rested in the exact place Potter had left it.

Very slowly she stretched out her beautiful hand and wrapped her lithe fingers around it. Carefully she lifted the bottle and brought it before her eyes. We were both momentarily mesmerized, she by the swirling silvers and blues of my memories, and I by her fathomless eyes. Still she said nothing allowing me without interruption the illicit thoughts churning in my head. At long last she spoke.

"Professor, I am about to do something I hope you can forgive me for some day, but I have to know," she said barely above a whisper, but with a determination that bordered on angry desperation. I stared at her astonished as she pocketed the bottle walked briskly to the foot of the bed where she'd laid the cloak, and put it on.

"Wait!" I called out angrily as she opened the door a crack. I was instantly behind her reaching into the air at the doorway as if to stop her. "Those are private!"

My hand fell through the cloak I could not see and passed through her. I felt her shudder as my hand passed through her, and for an instant I felt what she felt. It was desperation, but of a kind to get answers. She wanted to know something just like I did, but she didn't know any more what it was than I did. I jerked my hand back as if I was burned and took a few calming breaths that my ghostly body did not really need. Before I could gather my wits she was gone.

"That was interesting."

I whirled around and saw Albus once again lounging in my chair. I gave him my best glare feeling icy sparks of anger flaring throughout my entire body. First Granger captivated me with her non-traditional beauty and then she stole my memories. Memories of Lily Potter, memories of me being tortured by fighting parents, teased by rogue Gryffindor bullies, memories of me killing my best friend and mentor. It was more than I could bear. If she wanted to see them, then it meant Potter had shared even less than I thought he had and he was honouring my privacy. Would Granger? Probably, but somehow I was afraid of what she might think of me after she saw what that bottle contained. I could forgive her for wanting to know, but would she forgive me for what she saw?

"Hardly," I retorted turning my back firmly on Dumbledore and staring out the lone window in the room.

"I was merely referring to the fact that you did not chase her down the hallway to get your memories back," Albus said nonchalantly smoothing out his pristine purplish-grey robe, the same he left the mortal world in.

Gravity weighed heavily on me. If I could have I would have sunk through the floor. I did want to follow her, but to what end? I could not see her, she could not see me, and it would not get me my memories back. I still hadn't figured out why the hell I cared. If I had my way, I would be dead in four months time and none of this would matter anymore. Once more my heart rate changed, slowing this time

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Albus observe the slow rise and fall of my physical chest then lift his steely blue gaze to me. Disapproval was etched in every crease and line of his wizened face.

"Remember when I told you, Albus that I did not want to play anymore?" I asked without turning around knowing he would remember that day on the tower. He grunted in acknowledgment. "I still feel that way."

"You made a promise, Severus," Albus' voice was a susurration, but the hurt was clear. It was the same thing he'd said that day on the tower, 'You made a vow, Severus.'

Indignation rose like bile in my ethereal throat. "I thought I had a choice here. Isn't there some rule that forbids you from attempting to influence me in whether I choose to live or die?"

Albus glided over to my side. "If you choose to live, my friend, then it will not be out of longsuffering duty towards me."

I harrumphed dutifully attempting to display the entirety of my animosity in my refusal to meet his eye. I was always a sucker for the guilty conscience and nobody could unearth mine like Albus Dumbledore. I wanted out of that room so badly I could scream. I never wanted to have to see Albus' eyes again, with their pity and their love. He hurt me when he asked me to make that promise. He said that only I would know what would become of my soul that day. I didn't know though and I wanted to blame him for that. Actually, I did blame him for that.

"You never stop asking too much of people, do you?" I demanded angrily. I shook my head furiously not wanting an answer to my question and I squeezed my eyes shut. _I just want to go home! _I shouted riotously in my head.

When I opened my eyes I was no longer at St. Mungo's.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry everyone for the delayed update! We had a big storm where I live and I was without my computer for the past week due to power interruptions. Next update will be on Sunday as usual. Thank you to all my lovely reviewers from the last chapter; Marlyking, Pandor4, Sleepingbutterfly, notwritten, severus49, brandon279, makaem, and Baka-Pyros! Your support keeps me going!!!**

**Anything that might not look right, like who died etc., is all part of my fic. If something appears non-canon or really AU, that is because I wanted it to be.**


	5. Love Hath Made Thee A Tame Snake

Disclaimer: I am not JKR

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 5

Love Hath Made Thee a Tame Snake

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was a mirror. The fact that my reflection was missing floored more acutely than the fact that I was gone from the hospital ever could. One does expect to look in a mirror and not see their reflection and the sensation is utterly bewildering, and extremely frightening. After all I had been through not seeing my reflection should not have surprised me, but since I could feel myself in a manner of speaking it never occurred to me that I couldn't see myself as well. The only thing I could see in the mirror was the corner of the shower and the sink in my small stark bathroom at Hogwarts.

I was in my old quarters. The ones I occupied as a teacher, not Headmaster. No one else used the rooms when I was Headmaster so they were unchanged. The room was empty and clean. The small mirror had not one water spot to blur my vision of the area behind myself, or through myself, since I could not see my own reflection. I was reeling the incredible relief of not being in the hospital anymore, but that was warring with the true panic I felt at leaving my body behind. What if I wanted to go back and couldn't? In that particular moment I really didn't want to go back, but there was a time when I would. I truly felt like I was going insane. I had no idea what I wanted, where I wanted to be, and why I was even _there _at all. The war was over as should I be. When I said I wanted to go home, I meant I wanted to die.

The game I was playing with death was beginning to feel more and more like nonsense. I felt like I was playing a game with a spoilt child who was changing the rules to suit his whims. Or maybe Death was slipping and simply not paying close enough attention because I never in my wildest dreams would have considered my bathroom my home. If I was stuck in this damn room I was going to wait out my six months, make sure I died, and then find Death and return him to the living, or whatever the opposite of death was, as long as it was painful.

I whipped away from the mirror and faced the doorway with the singular intention of going through it when I was once more graced with the presence of Albus sodding Dumbledore, leaning against the doorframe.

"Bollocks." I immediately turned around again. "Didn't I just leave you behind?"

"You always were a welcoming host." Albus smiled and twinkled as usual, how he could be so unaffected by tantrums never ceased to amaze me. "You said you wanted to go home, not that you wanted to be left alone."

Technicalities. I was seething, pure and simple. "What are you doing here?"

"In your bathroom?"

I could kill him. "Here! Here, Albus," I shouted wafting my hands in a wide arc as if to symbolise 'everywhere.' "What do you want from me? You always ask too much, take everything for granted, and now you won't just leave me alone!"

Finally, Albus frowned and pushed away from the wall. "Shall we argue outside of the bathroom?"

"I don't know. Can I leave the bathroom?" I asked sarcastically.

He turned aside and motioned for me to pass. I glared at him as I passed daring him to say anything else. If I had a wand I would have cursed him to kingdom come, not because I was angry with him personally, but just because I was angry.

I passed easily through the doorway. There was no invisible pressure holding me back like there was in my hospital room. The familiarity of my old room was not the breath of fresh air I was hoping for. Instead was choked for air as despair washed over me. A large bitter lump formed in my throat that no amount of swallowing would wash away.

"I am truly sorry, Severus," Albus murmured. The twinkling was all gone, and its place was the face of the man I murdered. "I am sorry I asked too much of you, and that I still do."

"Why are you here?" I asked again unable to keep my voice from trembling.

Albus looked hurt that I still wanted him away, but there was no help for it. I wanted to mourn my existence in peace.

"I am passing on my final message from Death, then I will leave you be." I made to interrupt, but he lifted a finger to silence me. "Death is bored; you aren't nearly as entertaining as he hoped."

"I beg his forgiveness," I shot back nastily. "It is not as if he has given me a lot to work with!"

"I could not agree more. The terms of your time here have changed. You are free to do as you wish, go where you wish, and even touch what you wish," he said.

I glared at him in disbelief. Now I was all of a sudden free to go on my own? What in the name of Circe was that supposed to mean?

"And? What is the catch? Do I still have six months to waste away here?" I asked for it almost sounded too good to be true.

"Death knows what you truly desire even if you don't, Severus," Albus said sagely. "Every person on earth is trying to find the balance between good and evil, too close and too far, love and hate, even life and death. We never really _choose_ life. Some other fate decides that we are born, but how do we find that balance during life that keeps us sane and relatively happy? That is the new rule, Severus. You need to find the things that keep you balanced."

"This is ridiculous. How am I to find out anything if I can't communicate? If nobody can see me what is the point?"

"I don't know, Severus," Albus responded sharply. "Perhaps that is the point. Observe. It is something you have always been good at. Find a way to communicate if you must, just try not to disturb anything too much. If you must know I don't like what is happening any more than you do. If it were up to me you would be alive and well and helping rebuild this castle."

It wasn't until he made that last statement that I noticed the sounds coming from outside the room. There was the unmistakeable noise of reconstruction in progress in the upper floors of the castle. I could hear stones grinding and distant crashes everywhere. Albus' face was terribly forlorn as he watched me and I immediately felt contrite for my earlier temper. I felt tears pool behind my eyes, but I blinked them back.

"What else, Albus? At the end of six months, do I still choose?"

Albus sighed deeply and looked at the ceiling. "Weren't you listening? I said that Death already knows what you want even if you don't. You have already chosen. You are being given a gift, Severus. You are being given the opportunity to view life without having to participate in it. How many times have you wished that you could just step outside yourself and watch? Make the most of it, my friend."

I said nothing. What was there to say? I'd always played my parts well, teacher, Death Eater, Slytherin. What else was there?

"Just be yourself, find out who you are without all the drama of secrecy and espionage. You are young, Severus. Learn how to enjoy it while you can."

I was confused. "While I can? You sound like you know my fate already."

"I don't," Albus admitted. "I hope for the best, but I fear the worst. I must leave you now, but I will see you again one day. That is my only comfort. Try not to screw it up."

Originally I was going to protest his leaving, but I could see that it would have been useless. It _was_ time for him to leave me. I had become too reliant upon his conversation, regardless of how mundane, to really think about much else. I was through wasting time. And as far as not screwing up went, I didn't know what in the bloody hell he was talking about. I couldn't possibly screw up a mission with no rules, could I? I would live or die, just like everyone else. Knowing it might happen on a certain day doesn't change the outcome, so I didn't see what difference it made how I got there.

"Good bye, Albus." I had no pretty words for him.

Albus tipped his head and smiled before he disappeared once more.

I was alone again. I was certain that I would not see him again. At least not in the semi-life that was currently in. Later I was proved correct, but that is neither here nor there. What was important was that I explore the castle. With the distraction of Albus out of the way I was able to hear more clearly the sounds of construction above me. The despair I had felt earlier returned as I looked around my old chambers. The bed sat empty, the mattress uncovered, oddly white and exposed with the curtains of the four-poster tied back. Several of my books remained on the shelves, untouched. I was grateful for that. I valued my books highest amongst all my possessions, equal to my potions ingredients and equipment which I prayed were also left alone.

Professor Slughorn never used my potions lab or classroom so I was able to retain them for myself. I used them primarily to mix potions for Madam Pomfrey, and also a few others less reputable, for the Dark Lord. My new freedom held true as I was able to pass into the lab. I was so eager to see it that I barely registered the feel of the door embracing me as I floated through it. I couldn't be bothered to try to touch the doorknob even though Dumbledore said I would be able to if I wished. Going through the door was similar to passing through the barrier to Platform 9 ¾ with the exception that I was the illusion rather than the door. The one thing that I was going to explore later was the way the castle seemed to wake up when I went through. It felt as if I was being embraced, but I passed through the doorway so quickly I could not fully comprehend it. It was only after I took complete stock of my lab that I returned to it.

Either the battle upstairs had no effect on the castle's dungeons or someone had already been down to restore order. Nothing was missing, nothing was out of place. My prized rhodium and platinum cauldrons were just as they should be, equally spaced on either side of my standard pewter cauldron on the work bench. I assumed that if anybody did discover them they would immediately be looted, so chances were that no one had been in there and the dungeons were unscathed.

It was time I returned my attention towards the castle. I strained my ears for more sounds, but it appeared that the construction crews were on some sort of break because my efforts were only met with silence. I wanted to test the theory that I could touch things again so I gingerly pressed my palm against the solid wall beside the lab door leading into the dungeon corridor. At first, I thought my hand was going to slip past the surface of the wall, but with a little concentration I was able to slowly feel the contours of the stone. It is an amazing feeling to be not human, but to feel. In that form I could easily forget that I was not visible, or able to do magic.

I began to feel slightly better about my situation in life, or lack thereof. I was finally able to travel about, find people, and to pick things up. The whole castle was my exploration buffet and I was nothing but a fat man with a fork. I started by making a mental list of all the people I wanted to check on. First, I would explore the castle, and then I would check on my body back at the hospital. Finally, I planned to visit each of the Malfoys.

The Malfoys were the only people alive from my Death Eaters days that I held any regard for. None of them were able to see me at the hospital with the exception of Draco. He was less angry with me at the end of the year before the battle than he was when I killed Dumbledore. He truly believed that I was trying to usurp his father and I could do nothing to reassure him otherwise. It pained me greatly, how much I had to lie to the young men who needed help the most. Draco could have turned out so differently. I needed to see him to know if there was any hope there.

One of the things I particularly enjoyed when I was a teacher was rounds. Not because I got some cheap thrill off catching students in flagrante delicto, which I did, but because it was wonderful opportunity to commune with the castle and absorb its magical energy. The castle was a minefield of tricks and turns and magical pockets. There were no secrets to the castle, it was willing to share its story with anyone who would listen, but very few did. Many, like the Weasley twins, found the secrets that suited their needs such as tickling the pear to get into the kitchens or one of the many passageways leading out, but they got their information from the Marauders who were mischief makers not really interested in becoming one with the castle.

I often found that if I was in pain from a visit with the Dark Lord, a stroll through the castle would ease it. Or, if I was particularly distressed with somebody such as Potter or Dumbledore, the castle would direct us away from each other if I wished it. There really were very few chance encounters where I was involved, and I found that the whole place could be used as one gigantic room of requirement if one wished it. Now I was back and the castle welcomed me like an old friend. Perhaps the only one I ever truly had.

That thought just saddened me. I didn't want to live if I couldn't live be a part of that castle. I owned a home on Spinners End, but try as I might I could not bring myself to feel any warmth towards the place. I was considering finding a way to burn it to the ground. Fantasising about my childhood home being reduced to a pile of ashes distracted me from my wanderings and before I knew it I was standing before the entrance doors facing the Great Hall. All around me were the abandoned tools of rebuilding. Statues, blocks of stone, and tools sat discarded while their owners convened in the Great Hall for the noon meal.

The hour glasses were reformed and refilled, all the rubies sitting on the tops ready for another year. The Great Hall appeared to be perfectly reformed, even with the outside sky recast. It was partly cloudy outside. I wondered if it was warm or windy, things I was incapable of detecting. I imagined the food in they were eating was tastefully prepared as usual. It had been years since anything tasted as more than sawdust in my mouth. A life of servitude has an unusually unpleasant effect on the palate.

I recognized each and every face gathered around the one long occupied table in the Great Hall. All of the teachers were there, including Slughorn, which surprised me because he was better at hiding and shirking responsibility than I figured he would be at rebuilding. Every surviving Weasley was in there, including Ron, but no Potter or Granger in sight. It was odd to see one of them alone. The other two were no doubt around somewhere getting up to no good. It was good to see Neville and Augusta Longbottom seated together, the former with his held high. I was proud of him over the last year, but I would never in a hundred lifetimes repeat that. I was going to go in the room so that I could actually hear the talk going on, but inexplicably I found myself drifting up the stairs towards the Head office. The damage on the upper floors was still fairly extensive, only the windows and doors were completely intact, but I hardly took notice.

Instead I saw Potter lurking outside the entrance to the Head's office, hiding beside the stone gargoyle so that anyone coming in would probably see him, but anyone coming out would not. He did not look happy. For the very first time I truly understood how convenient it was to be invisible. I was a spy once more, but I had no fear of getting caught. It was a liberating thing. Potter was seething in his typical fashion, jaw clenched, hands working in and out fists before dragging them through his hair, and the occasional glance around.

We both turned towards the stone gargoyle when we heard it move, me with interest, and him with determination as he gripped his wand. However, the gargoyle opened slowly, closed just as slowly, but nobody appeared. Potter, however, was prepared for that. Whoever left the office did not see him for their hurried footsteps were not muffled at all on the flagstone floor and Harry silently aimed a stunning spell into the empty air. When his victim fell, and Harry pulled his invisibility cloak away, it was Granger lying on the floor. Her wand was sticking out of her pocket so she'd clearly made no attempt to defend herself, and by her other hand as if it had just rolled out when she fell, was the vial containing my memories. Her face was a frozen image of distress and there were tear tracks down her cheeks.

"Rennervate," Potter said coldly. I was the one who should be angry. It was clear she was using Dumbledore's old Pensieve to view them. I would have stayed rooted to the spot to watch even if my memories weren't involved. I had seen Potter in a strop with his friends before, but he usually gave the silent treatment. I would reserve judgement on whether or not he had matured until after I saw him encounter Miss Granger while angry.

Hermione slowly got to her feet, carefully slipping the bottle in her pocket as she went. "You needn't have bothered with the spell, Harry. I knew you were there."

"Why did you take them, Hermione? Those memories were private." Harry held his hand out for the vial. After a moment's hesitation, Hermione took them out and handed to them to him. I was floored. I knew already that she hadn't seen them, but I never expected it to be out of Potter's solidarity towards myself. Normally, I would chalk this up to his typical heroics, but there was something in his countenance that went much deeper than that, and it was not wholly unpleasant being on the receiving end of his protection for once.

"I know," was all Hermione said before turning on her heel and walking away.

Potter took a few long steps after her and gripped her arm forcing her to stop. I made a motion to pull his hand free, but stopped myself when I realised what I was about to attempt. I was going to protect the girl for reasons I could not fathom at that moment. It would have been disastrous moment to test my new ability touch on humans.

"Stop," he commanded. "I want to know why you went behind my back, stole my cloak and the memories, and completely betrayed my trust."

"I had to know, Harry," Hermione said defiantly, tears welling up in her eyes again. "Let go of me."

Harry jerked his hand free as if he'd been shocked and Hermione rubbed on her arm where his fingers had gripped her so tightly they left marks. She did not try to turn away again.

"You had to know what, exactly? I told you all I could that ought to be enough," Harry said, but there was a slight hint of solicitation at the end his words as if he were really trying to say, 'wasn't it enough?'

"I'm not like you, Harry. I have a harder time just accepting things for what they are and I haven't been able to make sense of this war at all. I wanted to know why Dumbledore didn't trust us, why Professor couldn't trust us enough to help us at all. We shouldn't have had to do this alone, Harry, and now people are dead who could have lived if Dumbledore wasn't such a secretive, manipulative, and – and batty old man!" Hermione shot a curse out of her wand reducing a pile of stones into a more fragmented pile. "And don't you get self-righteous with me, I told you all along to trust Snape, but you never listened. You _never_ wanted to listen to me about anything, ever. Yet, I still stood by you throughout it all, even losing my parents for you, and you couldn't share that with me! Ron and I both had a right to know."

As private as I wished my memories to remain, she did have a point. It was only fair that the other two-thirds of Potter's brain be given some answers too. I revealed a lot in those memories, my love for Lily was the least of it. I held all the secrets to the success of the war. Granger trusted me all along; that I could almost believe as much it shocked me. Someone had to be logical enough to see through my facade, it certainly would not have been Voldemort because he had tunnel vision, but Granger, and yes I could see that. My respect for her went up several notches. I wondered where her parents her though. I wasn't aware that any Death Eaters got a hold of them, not for a lack of trying.

"Well," Hermione continued her voice razor sharp. "You certainly learned how to keep your thoughts to yourself from a true master. Snape I get. He had reasons to be the way he was, but you, you have no right to hide these things from us and then take all the credit like you had some sort of divine epiphany that gave you all the answers."

"You don't understand anything at all, Hermione," Harry whispered, anger seeping around the edges of calm in his voice. "What was in the memories that you wanted to know about so badly? Was it the part about Snape's deal to kill Dumbledore, that part about him loving my mother, the part where he was cowering in the corner listening to his parents fight? The part where he argued with Dumbledore about setting me up to sacrifice myself to Voldemort? The part where you found out that Snape hates me because I am James Potter's son? What part made you feel better about the war, Hermione?"

Tears slipped liked crystalline drops down Hermione's face.

"Forget it, Hermione. I don't want to hear it from you right now." Harry gathered his cloak over his arm and walked away.

I remained still as Hermione slid down the wall pulled her knees to her chest. She stopped crying, but she rested her head on her knees her long hair cascading around her face obscuring every inch.

"What part made you feel better?" I asked aloud echoing Harry's final question knowing that she couldn't hear me, but wanting to know all the same. From the outside of the situation I could see her despair without hardening my heart against it. It was the first time I felt truly exposed to emotional scrutiny, and it wasn't the scrutiny of others I feared. It was my own. Being in that state, one could only imagine the emotional turmoil I felt when she voiced a response out loud as if she had heard me. I know she would not have said this if she knew I was there. Would I have done things differently if I didn't hear? I would like to think not.

With her face still buried in her lap she spoke with a muffled voice. "The part where I learned that the man I love is capable of returning it."

* * *

**A/N: okay, so we are moving right along. Now we know why Hermione stole his memories. I apologise once again for the delay in posting, but it has been outside my control, I swear. I am going to try really hard to give you all either a bonus chapter, or a super long chapter over the weekend. Thanks for all your lovely reviews and support!**


	6. Life Is A Tale Told By An Idiot

Disclaimer: I am not JKR

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 6

Life Is a Tale Told By An Idiot

Here are some basic things about me that nobody really knows, except for a select few, most of which are Hogwarts faculty who knew me as a student. One is that I am not an arse hole. I pretend to be one for the sake of my spy duties. Am I surly and grumpy? Definitely, but I am not an arse hole. Despite what I might portray on the exterior, on the inside I can be as soft as the most sentimental fool you can think of. Surprising as it is, I can be hurt and my pugnacious armour is probably forty percent necessity and sixty percent defence mechanism. While I admit that I did get a sick thrill out of terrorising Gryffindors, I only pushed sensitive buttons when I knew that hurting them that way would make them stronger and smarter in the long run. If I were visible and heard what Granger had just said, I would make her life a living hell in a desperate attempt to protect her and push her away. Because I had been invisible for nearly two months, my walls were down for the most part and my first reaction was to pity the girl. I'm not sure if I would have had any biting wit to offer her if she _could _see me. Even _I_ would have been momentarily speechless.

I needed a calming draught, and apparently Granger needed some sort of therapy. She'd apparently gone round the twist if she had any sort of feelings for me at all, but love? And what kind of love? Did she love me as a teacher, a friend, or a father? The fact that she could hold any sort of romantic predilection for me was just as appalling as it was unbelievable. She was a student, for Merlin's sake. I was not only an unlovable person by disposition, but I was not attractive in the least either. I was not the type of teacher that elicited school girl crushes. I had limp greasy hair from being overexposed to potions fumes, and I was too thin and pale. My teeth were crooked and my nose too large, so obviously there was nothing in my physical appearance that could entice her. And I was awful to her as a student in my class. I found every opportunity to remind her that she was busybody and a know-it-all. Yes, she was going mad. Either that or she was using me as an outlet for some repressed emotions she had because of the war.

I was not ignorant of the fact that I already respected her for her intelligence before I even admired her beauty, but that was certainly not an indicator of impending regard for her. However, crazy or not, I could not stay there watching her weep and not have some sort of feelings stir inside me. I wanted to reach out to her and hold her. I wanted to tell her not to love me. I wanted to tell her not to pity me, and I wanted to tell her to put me out of her mind because she would probably never see me again, but gently with kind words and not harsh ones. Like I mentioned before, I did not always enjoy hurting people. If my memories gave her any comfort then I was glad, for that was all the comfort the poor girl would receive from me.

"Hermione!" a voice called down the corridor startling both of us out of our thoughts.

Granger quickly wiped her eyes, stood up, and straightened out her clothes. I was grateful for the interruption. I did not like where my thoughts were straying. I was beginning to wonder if she did indeed discover that I was capable of love, or if she was already hurt because she decided through some folly of my own, that I was indeed not. I would never ask even if I could, but the interruption was definitely a welcome distraction from my thoughts. Hermione dried her eyes, stood up, and straightened her clothes.

"All right, Hermione? I just passed Harry and he said you were here, but he seemed out of sorts." Ron wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulders and squeezed. The gesture was friendly at first, but then Ron lowered his arm until his hand was wrapped more intimately around her waist. There was a subtle twinge inside me when I saw that move, barely perceptible and categorically unwelcome, but there all the same. I knew that she held some sort of torch for the insensitive lout back in her sixth year, but I never understood why. Even Potter was closer to her intellectual equal than Weasley and I assumed that the events of the war threw them together. Stressful situations tend to that and in eleven years there will be a significantly larger first year class than usual. I wanted to fault her for being attracted to someone so obviously wrong for her, but we are all fools in love, I could testify to that. Granger did not answer him and allowed Weasley to lead her down the corridor towards the stairs. Not knowing what else to do, I followed.

"McGonagall asked where you were at lunch because she had an important announcement," Weasley continued on completely oblivious to the fact that she was not responding to him. "She said that the school's board of governors and the Ministry voted on making a repeat of the last year compulsory!"

His voice rose in agitation succeeding in capturing Granger's full attention at last.

"Really?" She did not sound unhappy.

"Yeah, load of bollocks if you ask me. After what we did on our own last year we should get our NEWTs for free. I bet we could pass the Auror entrance exams right now," he rambled on.

Hermione pulled free of Weasley's grasp and sighed in exasperation. "No, you couldn't, especially if I wasn't there to coach you through all the preparations. What we accomplished last year had just as much to do with luck, as it did anything else."

"Geez, Hermione, give us some credit. Give yourself some credit. I don't see why you are getting defensive. You know I don't like school, and after a year off I didn't think I would have to go back, but Mum's making me. Fred and George got to quit," he said huffily.

"They're different; they had options that did not require a completed education, and thanks to Harry, a start up fund."

Ron's face soured some more when Hermione mentioned Harry's money. When you observe as much as I do you learn a lot of odd things about people, but one obvious flaw in the Trio's friendship was Ron's covetousness towards Potter's inheritance, and in this case, the Triwizard winnings. I'd heard Potter gave the money to the Weasley twins, and I did not blame the boy. The thousand galleons would have felt like blood money to him because Cedric Diggory was not alive to share it with.

"So, I suppose you're pleased that the year has to be repeated then?" Ron asked grumpily.

At first I thought she was going to ignore him because they'd reached the Great Hall where teams were dispensing to get back to work, but she paused and turned to him.

"Do you even have to ask? Of course I am. Nobody learned anything last year."

She was absolutely correct. I was ashamed that the only year I could run the school was the one year I had to sacrifice their education to further a megalomaniac's agenda.

Before he could respond she advanced on him and hissed quietly, "There are plenty of things we still need to learn for NEWTs that has nothing to do with warding spells, Polyjuice Potion, and memory charms. We would have gotten through the war with a lot fewer setbacks if we had just one more year to prepare, and time to ask the right questions."

At this point Harry approached the two of them and Hermione silenced him. By now, both the boys were angry with Hermione and gave neither spoke to her as they worked for the rest of the afternoon. She was lost in her thoughts and did not seem to be bothered, either that, or she was too used to getting the silent treatment from them to notice it anymore. I'd seen them do it a hundred times before. Seeing it happen now solidified my opinion that she was the most mature of the group. I understood Harry's anger, but Ron was just being a brat.

I hung around the rest of that day and the next to watch the castle get finished. The start of term was less than four weeks away and it looked like the castle would be done in plenty of time. Crews worked all through the night, both inside and out, to put on the final touches. Many of them seemed to be suffering from the typical insomnia that followed times of tragedy, Minerva and Potter included. It was around three in the morning when I happened upon them repairing the telescopes in the Astronomy tower in the middle of a conversation. Minerva was speaking.

"—I hope you can understand why we can't exempt you from returning to school in September," she was saying.

"Actually, Professor, I am happy to come. I don't really know what I want to do with my life right now, and I would like to experience just one year at Hogwarts without that, er, shadow over my head," he said quietly as he screwed a lens cap on his telescope.

"Oh? Is it not your ambition to be an Auror any longer?" Minerva asked.

Harry shrugged. "I think so, but after last year I could use a break. Besides, I know I can be kind of thick sometimes-"

That was an understatement.

"—but even I am smart enough to know that I am ready yet. Also, I don't want to get into Auror training just because of who I am. I don't like getting things because of fame. Ron is kind of like that, but I'm not, no matter what Snape would always say to me."

That stung, but it was true. I used his fame like a whip on him every chance I got. He never once did anything to deserve it, and I hoped that he would be intelligent enough to understand that if I wanted to hurt him, I would say things that were true, like when I reminded him of how cruel his father and godfather were. His fame was nothing though. He did not use it for attention, but he let my goading get to him anyway. It made me want to irritate him further until he figured it out. If Lily raised him I think he would have, but since he was neglected his whole life it was all too easy for him to let those things influence him. The Dursleys were consistently cruel and they made it clear they disdained him. If they had said they were treating him that way out of love, which many parents do, then perhaps Harry would have seen me in a different light. I prefer it the way it was; at least he knew where he stood even if it did destroy the better part of his confidence. He saw my memories though; he knew why I was hateful towards him. They would never be enough; he needed a strong male role model to be a friend, a mentor, and a confidante. He'd lost every potential one he'd ever had and I'd spent the last seven years pointing out how worthless they all were. I really am a bastard.

"I would not blame him, Harry. Speaking of Severus, have you gone to visit him, and tell him your part of the tale?" Minerva pressed her stern gaze onto Harry, probably knowing full well what he was about to say.

Harry turned away from her and put his eye through the telescope he'd just mounted as if to test it out.

"No."

"Harry, you should. It would be good for both of you, he is listening." She pulled her tartan shawl tighter over her body. It must have been a very chilly early morning.

Harry chuckled softly. "I know what you mean, I can almost feel him looming over me ready to criticise me right now."

I took an involuntary step back. Could he _really _sense me, or was he just making a jibe at how I have always castigated him?

"Don't be ridiculous. Tell him, Harry. Tomorrow; and that is an order. It is the last thing I will ask you to do before I release you back to Grimmauld Place for the remainder of your summer. Apologise to Granger while you're at it. I have no idea why you are fighting, but you have both been through enough." Minerva pulled her shawl even tighter still around her. "I am going to bed now, Potter, I suggest you do the same."

I was still eager to hear how he'd survived the war so I made immediate plans to get myself back to my hospital room. Before I left though, I made a sweep through the castle to look in on all the people there one last time. Most of them were asleep. Molly Weasley was awake and sitting quietly by a sleeping George's head. He was sleeping with his injured side showing and a pang of guilt shot through me. I really did not mean to cut off his ear. I would have possibly been able to gain the trust of the Order again if it were not for that terrible mistake. I could heal it; I know how being the one who created the curse in the first place. If I had any intentions to live I would have added that to the top of my list of things I would do to make things right immediately. I made a mental note to do it anyway since I didn't know what Death had in store for me. I didn't linger in the room though because it was clear Molly was mourning Fred and not George's ear. I felt like I was invading her privacy and left her to her thoughts. I passed Ron on my out of the dorm the family was sharing. He was snoring loudly as unaware of the world around him as could possibly be. I wondered if he had ever lost his appetite or his sleep over anything before.

I stopped in on Granger next to last. I was going to avoid her altogether, but I was compelled. If she could see me, evasiveness would be necessary so that I did not strengthen whatever type of regard she was feeling for me. Invisible though, I did not need to protect her from herself. She was asleep, but it did not appear to be a peaceful sleep. Her lips were slightly pursed and her eyes were squeezed a little too tightly shut. Her hair was braided and laying across the pillow exposing the gentle curve of her neck. Her blanket was pulled up to her collarbone so that was all I could see, and it was enough. I stayed a few moments longer than I should have, but it could not be helped. She didn't look at all like a child anymore. She looked young, slightly lost even in her sleep, but there was nothing childlike about her at all. I didn't realise I had moved close to her until I felt the gently presence of something surrounding my legs. Look down, I saw that I had actually stepped into her bed and my lower half was enveloped in mattress. I literally Apparated away from her reappearing by her doorway, but the damage was done. I was drawn to her, and nothing good could come of it.

The last person I checked on was Potter. I harboured no desire to see him again; I simply wanted to be assured that he was sleeping so that I had time to get to St. Mungo's before he did. I needn't have worried. He was sprawled on his bed, fully clothed, breathing deeply and evenly, unmistakably asleep. It made me wish I could sleep even if I was never tired. I did not get physically weary, but I did need rest. My mind was exhausted.

Since Potter was not going to visit anytime soon I went to my house at Spinner's End before returning to my body. The outside looked as it always did. The gate was swinging freely from the hinges and the grass was unkempt, however my intuition told me something was wrong on the inside and I was correct. My meagre had been ransacked, by Death Eaters no doubt. My precious collection of books lay strewn about, torn and trampled. It was a stroke of luck that all my best potions equipment was perfectly preserved in my old lab at Hogwarts. Living or dead, I would be sad to see them destroyed or in the wrong hands. The furniture was slashed and broken and the carnage continued as I made my way upstairs. The few sets of robes I kept at home were flung about and feathers from my pillow were scattered all over my bedroom. The one framed picture I had of my mother was lying on the floor. The glass was broken, but the picture appeared otherwise undisturbed. Using my newly acquired tangibility skills I picked up the frame and shook off the broken glass. I carefully slid the picture of Eileen Prince out of the frame and sighed with relief when I found what I was looking for. Behind the picture of my mother were a torn photograph and a torn piece of paper. The photograph was of Lily smiling, it was at Harry, I knew. The paper was a bit torn from a letter she'd written that accompanied the picture. It held her love, the one thing I'd always wanted from her. I found them in Sirius Black's bedroom when I ransacked his home, much the same as had been done to mine. The difference was that I wasn't really looking for something, it was just a cover. I don't know what the Death Eaters expected to find here, but all I had was destroyed. The only valuable thing I had was box full of galleons, but that was hidden and could only be revealed by a spell. I wouldn't be willing to burn my house down with that inside unless I was one hundred percent sure I would never need it, but since I didn't I left my house intact for another day. I would simply have to come up with another plan.

Once I was back at St. Mungos I waited for the Healers to perform their morning duties in my room. They used their typical spells to clean me and my bed before pumping the usual nutritive down my throat. I waited impatiently for them to leave because I wanted to test my wand and in order to get to it I had to move things around. When they were finally gone, and the door was closed the standard three quarters of the way, I freed my wand from the folds of my neatly hung robes. The weight of it in my palm felt like a lifeline to the world. I could feel the magic surge through me and I was exhilarated. I raised my wand with eagerness and cast a silent levitating spell at a newspaper sitting on the bedside table. Nothing. I said the spell aloud and still nothing. I could not do magic. I was given the gift of touch, but I was still robbed of my magic. Death was not a thief I could smile at. I wanted the Nothing to envelop me. Knowing with absolute certainty that I could hold my wand, but not use it, left me bereft of not only a desire to live, but to exist. Without magic I was less than nothing, I was just vapour with the ability to make things move. I knew that if I was alive and in my body, magic would flow through my hands and out the currently useless stick of wood, but that did not comfort me in the present.

With a shaking hand I pushed my wand back into my pocket, straightened my robes, and closed the small door of the cupboard they were stored in. I sat down in the chair by my bed and waited for Potter to arrive. While I waited I observed my still body. My breaths were coming out evenly albeit shallowly. My face looked waxy and still, but I was not shrunken like a typical coma patient. The stasis was holding my body just fine and I knew my heartbeat and breaths were still an effect of Death's spell, only there for show. I wondered if I were to die at the end of my sentence if I would remain the same only devoid of life and a soul, or if my body would progress rapidly through the degeneration it should be going through now. Without thinking about it, I leaned forward to touch my own hand, but my ghostly fingers slipped through the ones made of flesh. I tried again, but was unsuccessful. I could not touch skin, but I could touch objects, so tried a different tact, and pressed my fingers against the crisp cotton of the hospital pyjamas. That time I was successful and through the clothes I could feel the sinewy muscles and hard bone in my arm. It was strange, touching myself that way, but it helped me to reconnect with my body ever so slightly.

I'd had enough surprises for the meantime, however, so I pulled my hand back and leaned back into the chair. With skill that only a true Occlumens would have I emptied my mind completely and waited for Potter to arrive.

* * *

**A/N: Thank you all to my reviewers! I always respond to reviews as soon as I get a chance so please sign in when you leave them! I am one day early in posting this chapter; I hope that makes up for being late with the last two. If I get a really good response with reviews I will give you all a bonus chapter next week. Once again, not beta'd, hope the errors aren't too terrible, but I always miss my own mistakes. **


	7. One Sided Conversations

Disclaimer: The usual, I'm broke and not JKR

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 7

One Sided Conversations

At about half past nine I heard a commotion outside my hospital room. I lowered my Occlumentic shields and slipped outside of the room to see what was going on and was surprised to see a horde of reporters snapping pictures and shouting questions at Harry Potter. Granger and Weasley flanked him and batted people out of their way.

"No interviews! No questions, please!" the three of them were shouting.

"Potter, it's been almost three months, why don't you give an interview? What do you think of having to return to school for one more year?" one reporter asked.

The trio did not respond and sighed with relief when a group of security personnel stunned the reporters and dragged them down the hallway.

"Group's getting smaller," Ron muttered. "Should go away altogether soon, mate."

Weasley clapped a hand on Harry's back in reassurance. Both Potter and Granger looked equally disgruntled by the paparazzi. No doubt the new decree was published and everyone wanted to hear what the current hero of the hour had to say about it.

"Now you know why I wanted the cloak," Hermione hissed at Potter. Potter darted his eyes at Ron and made a shushing gesture. The two seemed to be under some sort of truce since their fight in the corridor a few days previously.

"We wouldn't have all fit under the cloak, Hermione," Ron said somewhat stupidly.

Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed Harry into my room. I followed him but she didn't.

"We'll be back in twenty minutes," Ron told Harry. Harry just nodded and closed the door to my room before I could even get a proper glimpse of Hermione.

Potter immediately went and sat in the empty chair by the bed and placed his head in his hands. He scrubbed them down his face a few times and I could hear his skin scrape against the stubble on his chin. I couldn't remember when he went from being the snot nosed eleven year old boy to the tired man I saw before me. Just like Granger he looked exhausted and slightly lost, and grown up. It was a shame they all had to grow up so fast. Even I grew up too fast.

Harry abruptly whipped out his wand and locked and silenced the door. He then did the incantation for a warding charm for good measure.

"Look Professor Snape, if you're in here and you can hear me, McGonagall sent me here to talk to you," he began as he paced around the room. I sat on the corner of the bed figuring that he was unlikely to walk through me there. "She seems to think that you can hear us and that by telling you things it will help you come back. She also thinks that if I talk to you it might make me feel better about things."

He stopped talking and pacing long enough to fiddle with some papers on the table and he twisted the potted geranium a quarter turn and then back again before clamping his hands at his sides again.

"I know we have a bad history, and I don't know how much that can change, but I wanted to say thanks. Thanks for giving me the memories and thanks for caring enough for my mum to keep me safe, even if I didn't know that was what was happening at the time. I know what Dumbledore asked you to do was really hard, and I forgive you for killing him. I didn't share the details of your memories with anyone, only a few points that people heard at the Final Battle. Hermione came in and took them though, thought you should know that."

His exasperation with his friend was apparent. I wanted to reassure him that it was okay she took the memories, but I knew it was not only a bad idea, but unnecessary. If he really believed I could hear him he would clam up. Potter was always good at keeping vital information from the very people he should be telling.

"Anyway, after I saw your memories and learnt that Dumbledore was manipulating us both, I more or less accepted the fact that I was going to die. I think you accepted that fate as well when Nagini attacked you. I can remember you pleading with Voldemort to let you go so you could bring to him, and I wish I knew then that it was because you wanted to help. I have lain awake at night wondering how much I would know about you if you had been able to talk to me instead of extracting memories. One of the reasons I kept your memories a secret was because I didn't really think you meant to say as much as you did. You were hurt and nobody is perfect when they are dying. I thought you were dead, and we have Hermione to thank for getting you here. Don't be angry with her for wanting to save you, just in case you wanted to die, that is. She likes you. She always defended you."

Potter was being surprisingly intuitive. He sat down in the chair again and sighed deeply. He swallowed audibly a few times and closed his eyes. When he opened them again they were heavier, the green was darker. They were less Lily's eyes and more Harry's.

"Things will never be the same. Ron and Hermione are together, but not for long. I can feel her pulling away. She saw your memories and she knows that Dumbledore wanted her to be the one with the cool head, and I think she kind of resents him for that, like maybe she could have had better friends than us, but we kept getting thrown into situations that kept her close to us. She is so hurt now that I think maybe she would have been better off alone, but that's not Hermione. She is loyal and honest, and—"

Harry choked up a little and blinked back a few tears, "—and between the both of you I owe my life a thousand times over. But you don't want to hear about Hermione, do you?"

I did. I wanted to hear all about her and about how he was a complete idiot and didn't realise how good of a friend he had in her. That's not true though, I know he knows how lucky he is.

"I'm not going to tell you about the whole year because I'm running out of time before they get back, but I will tell you how I lived. Since I was a Horcrux, but still protected by my mum's magic when she sacrificed herself, Voldemort was still unable to kill me, but because we shared blood he had made the connection he needed to be able to attack his own Horcrux. I could have died if I wanted to, but I really didn't. I walked into death ready to do my part, but I was glad I didn't have to. In the end, he killed the Horcrux and not me. I was sent to this kind of in-between where I talked to Dumbledore."

That explains why Dumbledore said he was so popular the first day I spoke with him.

"What we talked about is really unimportant, but he helped me understand you and my own choices. Narcissa Malfoy tricked Voldemort. I was laying face down and alive, and he sent her to check for my heartbeat. She could feel it of course, and she asked if Draco was alive. When I said yes she lied to Voldemort and told him I was dead. I owe her my life, too. I should write to her and thank her, but I don't know how receptive she'll be.

Voldemort was surprised to learn you weren't loyal. You have no idea how happy I was to be able to tell him that. That felt like better revenge than killing him did. He never really trusted anyone, but the one person he sort of did wasn't loyal and that felt like justice. So did using an Expelliarmus to kill him. If you could hear me I know you had have a million things to say about my lack of magical abilities, but that simple spell was all it took. In the end Voldemort's downfall was his own. I don't really know when I figured out that I was master of the Elder wand. It happened because Malfoy disarmed Dumbledore on the tower that night. So even though, when I fought him at the Malfoy Manor it was his own wand I got, he was still master of the Elder wand and I defeated him."

That bit about the Elder wand was news to me. I didn't know that Harry had figured that out and I did not know it had anything to do with Voldemort's downfall, but I suppose it had everything to do with.

"What's scary is that Voldemort and I had more in common than I thought. I know I couldn't keep him out of my head and you tried to teach me otherwise, but let's face you did a horrible job. I know that you kept me from learning on purpose so as not to make Voldemort suspicious, but I would have liked to learn Occlumency. There is more to it than clearing the mind and concentrating because you can't do both at the same time, can you? He wasn't able to keep me out either in the end though. Anyway, we both had a fixation on the Deathly Hallows, and I got them all, not at the same time, but I used the stone and lost it. I own the cloak, and I won the wand. I don't want to be the master of death and that's where we're different. I'm not afraid of it anymore, and if you are, and that fear is what's keeping you from moving on, don't be. I love living, but I'm sure death is quite lovely too. I had to stay and fight, and I'm okay with that."

Harry sat very still and looked across my bed and out the window. The sky was blue and the sun was streaming in. Dust motes were swirling in the air and I could see that it was a fine summer day outside. The beams of light seemed like the promise of a new dawn and Harry's face changed into a slow smile.

"McGonagall was right, Professor. I do feel better and I told you more than I planned to. I don't know if you can hear me, or if you'll remember anything, but if you do, please just leave me alone. I know you hate me because of my father and his friends, and because I'm a Gryffindor and so on, but I have lost everyone who really knew my parents, what they were really like, and I hurt too. If you live, and I hope you do, and you don't feel like you can be the friend that I really need, than just stay away. Knowing that you were that close to my mum and knowing you can't stand me is really hard for me to bear. I would have too many questions that you probably would not want to answer and I don't want to ruin any civility that might arise between us by pestering you and then having you insult me. I hope you understand."

There was a knock at the door and Harry released the wards. Ron and Hermione slipped into the room holding steaming cups of tea. Hermione held two and offered on to Harry.

"Thanks," he said and he took a sip of the hot liquid.

Weasley slipped his hand into Hermione's newly freed hand. Harry looked at them sadly. He said that they wouldn't be together for long and I think Harry feared that if they broke up, it would break up the trio, not just the pair. I couldn't help but notice that Hermione slipped her hand out of Ron's as quickly as she could and wiped her palm on her jeans. I was unable to focus on her for the moment. Potter's last words were ringing in my ears. He wanted me to leave him alone because of how cruel I was to him over the years. I was genuinely aggrieved by it and I promised myself that if I were to come out this situation alive I would find a way to make it up to him. I owed it to Lily to share what bits of her I could with her only son.

"Are you ready to go?" Ron asked heading for the doorway. It was painfully obvious that being in the room with me made him uncomfortable. Ron did not seem much different to me. It was as if the war did not change him at all and I was disappointed to see it.

"You go on, Ron. I am going to stay for a moment." Hermione held the door open for her boyfriend.

Ron looked at her in confusion. "Why?"

"Wouldn't you like visitors if you were stuck in hospital?" she snapped.

"Maybe if I was awake and aware they were here," he snapped back.

Harry pushed Ron out the door. "Just leave her alone, Ron. I'll come with you and we can wait for Hermione outside."

Ron left grudgingly, but he gave Hermione a small wave before he did. She returned it and then crossed her arms as she waited for Harry to go to. Harry dug in his pocket and retrieved the vial of memories.

"Here, you know what to do with it." Without another word he left and shut the door behind him.

Granger went through and did a series of charms to protect her privacy just as Potter did, but her skills were noticeably more advanced. When she was sure she would not be interrupted she quietly went to the side of my bed and stood over my head. She opened the vial of memories and dipped the tip of her wand inside, and one by one, she returned my memories to me. When she was finished she set the empty bottle on the table by her plant. She inspected it again and appeared satisfied that it was healthy. I was waiting for her to say something, but she remained silent. I was still hurting from Harry's words, but her mere presence was a comfort to me. Her tranquillity soothed me. I could easily spend many happy hours in a quiet room with her.

I rose from my spot at the foot of my bed and moved to stand beside her. I was careful not to get too close, but I was close enough to see every line in the skin of her throat clearly and the breaths I did not need caught in my throat. Hordes of young men at Hogwarts truly missed out on this jewel. If one could not respect her physical attractiveness then they would have to be dead not to respect her countenance and admire her fortitude and intelligence. I was not a typical Hogwarts student though, and I wanted to know more about the feelings she felt for me before I had to start shoving them away.

Hermione set the cup of tea she was holding on the table by the bottle and reached out to pull the collar of my pyjamas away from my neck. She bent closer to inspect the skin there and actually traced a finger over the thin white scars that were all that remained of my fight with Nagini. I placed my own hand on my neck and traced the same pattern she did and breathed deeply. I could not smell her, but I imagined she smelled of books and wine, fruit and magic. I did not have a physical body, but my longing to smell her left a hollow in my stomach. I wanted her as far away as she could go for her own sake, but I wanted her inside of me for my own.

Her fingers lingered on my throat and then she traced a line across my job and rested her palm on my cheek before pulling back.

"Healer Smythwick learnt a thing or two from when Nagini attacked Arthur Weasley, I see. There is not really any scarring," she said conversationally.

She had a lot to do with the scarring bit because of the potions she gave me when she found me. I suppose that was fortuitous. I had enough scars already after all.

Hermione shivered slightly and it made me realise that I had gotten very close to her. There was not an inch separating us. I stepped back quickly.

"Thank you for your memories, even though you did not offer them. They are yours again so you run no risk of anyone else stealing them. I am sorry for everything you had to go through. I know that sorry doesn't sound like much, but the things I want to tell you would take too long. I believe you can hear me so it makes what I am about to say much harder than it really should be, but here goes. When I saved you in the Shrieking Shack it wasn't just because I couldn't stand to see another person get killed, it was because it was you," she said reaching out and grasping my hand. "I wanted to save you. I know that you would think I am crazy, but it has been you for awhile now, since beginning of sixth year actually, but that is unimportant.

If you came back and never wanted to see me again, I would understand. I thought maybe you wanted the potions to work because you actually wanted to live, but after seeing your memories I know it was because you hadn't finished doing Dumbledore's bidding. You wanted to make sure Harry got the information he needed to succeed. I would rather you wanted to live. If you want to die, is it because you are truly finished living? Or, is it because you think life has abandoned you? Please live, Severus." She whispered my given name as if it was the first time she said it aloud.

She held my hand for a few moments and gazed at my face. I wanted to become handsome for her. She deserved so much.

"I wanted to say these things to you because I am leaving in a few days and I didn't want to go and run the chance of you dying and me not being able to tell you how I feel. I am going to Australia to try to find my parents, that's a long story, and I won't be back until term. I have seen too much loss and destruction to go another day without saying what I feel when I believe it really matters. There is such a thing as too late, and I don't want to be too late. If only I could have some sort of sign, some sort of clue that you are _here,_ somewhere, I would be at ease."

I froze in place. I wanted her away, I wanted her close, I wanted to live, and I wanted to die. I could never make up my mind. I could give her a sign, a simple gesture to let her know that I was there with her, but where would it lead? What good could possibly come of it? Before I could talk myself out of it I made a move. She was right, too many things in my life happened too late or not at all. I stretched my hand forward, screwed up my concentration, and knocked over her cup of tea.

She shot out of her seat and stifled a scream. "Professor?" She asked wide eyed.

I rustled the leaves in the geranium.

"Oh my god." She bent forward and picked up the cup.

"If that is really you, move that cup."

I slid the cup a few inches across the wood. She stumbled back a few feet terrified. I was afraid she was going to flee from the room in horror, but she backed into the chair and stopped. I had reached out a hand as if to grab and her hand and stop her but hand passed through her flesh. She raised her hand to her face in shock.

"I can _sense_ you. I hope I haven't gone round the bend and you aren't some figment of my imagination."

I moved the cup again. She clasped her hand to her mouth and fell back into the chair.

"I can't believe this."

Neither could I. There was no turning back now.

"I am going to ask you some questions. Tap the cup once for yes, and twice for no, do you agree?"

"Yes," I said aloud as I tapped once.

"Did you hear everything I just said?"

"Yes." Tap.

"Did you hear everything Harry said?"

"Yes." Tap.

"Are you angry I saw your memories?"

"No." Tap, tap.

She sighed with relief, but her shoulders were still tense.

"Are you safe?" she asked after a moment's hesitation.

Tap.

"Good. Are you angry I saved you? Tap three times if you are not sure."

I tapped once, twice, paused, and then added a third tap.

She looked down at her lap and I thought she was going to cry, but she didn't. She turned her eyes at the cup and around the cup as if attempting to see me.

"Do my feelings for you frighten you?"

Tap.

"They frighten me too, but they cannot be helped. I have to go, but before I do, I have to ask. Will you remember this conversation when, and if, you wake?"

Tap, tap, and tap.

"Are you a spirit?"

The questions were becoming incessant, but the ball was in her court. Only she could keep the conversation going and for once her barrage of inquisitiveness did not annoy me. I knew that feeling wouldn't last forever; I was just beyond pleased to be able to communicate at all.

Tap. In a sense I suppose I was a spirit. I wasn't a ghost otherwise she would be able to see me, and I would not be able to touch anything.

"Can you leave your body?"

Tap.

"Can I ask just a few more questions before I go? I know you don't like too many questions."

I tapped once. The yes applied to her question and the statement she made. She smiled the first I had seen on her since the war and it lit up the room.

"Can you leave this room?"

Tap.

"Are there things you would like to say to me, but can't?"

Tap. A million things.

There was a knock on the door startling us both.

"I am staying Grimmauld Place right now, but I will be at the castle having lunch with Minerva on Friday before I go to Australia," she said quickly. "Can you go there?"

I tapped once.

"Meet me in the Gryffindor common room at four?"

I tapped twice for no. She looked crushed. I gave the cup a few more taps on the table to keep her attention. She took the hint.

"I will be there alone," she reassured me.

I tapped once.

There was another knock at the door and she pulled out her wand.

"Professor, since you know how I feel about you, do you think that maybe you could see me as something other than just your annoying student?"

I hesitated, but I had already made contact what else did I have to lose. I tapped again one more time. She smiled another thousand watt smile and slipped out the door.

* * *

**A/N: So, I haven't gotten more than two reviews for the other chapter, but here is the bonus one anyway. This chapter is dedicated to makaem and sleepingbutterfly, the two people I can always count on.**

**I am also on my knees begging for help, based off of what you have read so far, can anyone give me some suggestions for fixing my summary? I am crap at those and I want to try to attract more attention to this story. I would love it if all my wonderful readers would be willing to help!**

**And one more thing. I haven't read any fan fics for a really long time. If someone has read an SS/HG that is absolutely epic, could you please give me a recommendation? **


	8. To Thine Own Self Be True

Disclaimer: Not JKR

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 8

To Thine Own Self Be True

Part of me wished that Hermione had not told me that she was going to be at Grimmauld Place. I was already tempted to spy on Potter there a little bit, but knowing she was going to be there made going seem like a worse invasion of their privacy. It also made me want to do it much more. When I was a kid I watched Lily in the park for a long time before I announced my presence. I thought I really knew her because of it, but I really didn't. I spent six years watching Granger, but it was always in relation to what she was doing with Potter. I just wanted to see her and I felt like a voyeur.

After the Golden Trio left the hospital I went back to Spinner's End. I went straight to my writing desk and dug through the carnage until I found a stack of unused parchment and a couple of fountain pens. I set them aside and then spent a few hours cleaning up the wreckage in the house. The books that survived I boxed along with ones that I would have wanted repaired. Whoever it was that destroyed my home was heartless. If they knew me at all they would have known that I would not have any information about Voldemort or Dumbledore there, and they would have known that destroying my literature was the surest way to anger me. I kept all of my sleuthing information in my head. I made horrible mistakes in my life, but being careless with information was something I would not risk.

Once I filled the last box I sat on the floor and looked around me. The place was such a mess it didn't even look as if I had cleaned any of it up. The only difference was the pile of boxes. If I was going to die soon I wanted someone to have those books. Someone who would appreciate them for how valuable they were even if she did not want to read them. I could imagine Granger having a grand library in her home. I could see a large fireplace with leather couches and a long table sprawled with open books and parchment. I longed to be a part of that, but it was impossible. Even if I lived I would never be good for her, but I never wanted to forget her. It would probably be better if she could forget me. I really should leave her alone, but I knew already that I would not.

I felt that way with Lily. I probably should have stayed away from her not to protect her heart, but my own. The more I thought about Lily, the more I realised how wrong I was to cling to her memory. Even my Patronus was the same as hers and I was beginning to see how pathetic that really was. I don't think it was pathetic because I held the attachment in general, I am all for loyalty, but because she hadn't spoken to me since fifth year all because of a stupid fight. Yes, I did call her a Mudblood and I was truly sorry. I actually sat outside her dorm all night for it, but she was still determined to cut off our friendship because of who I was getting mixed up with. What if she didn't? Perhaps I never would have become a Death Eater, but her telling me to go away drove me straight into the arms of the Dark Lord. Only those who were there could really understand how enticing he made joining him seem, but that is a story for another day.

I am digressing, what I really mean is that while it took me years to fall out of love with her and it was I who gave the prophecy to Voldemort, I should have gotten over her long ago. With or without my love for Lily I would have been a spy, she was just a cover story. A really good excuse to defect from Voldemort and I needed something Dumbledore would truly understand to convince him to help me. My tears when she died were genuine and she still holds a warm place in my heart, but I am more than disgusted with myself that I could not let go. There would not have been anyone else even if she wasn't there. My lifestyle left very little room for romantic relationships and I would have to lie to anyone who would have tolerated me. I did not have the energy for such a charade and nor the heartlessness to inflict it upon someone. The game was over though, somehow I came out the winner, but it didn't feel like it. Fate had plundered through my life pillaging for whatever it wanted, ransacking my emotional and social life as surely as the people who ransacked my home. I wanted to find those robbers and squeeze their metaphorical necks until they choked up the only surviving bits of my life and gave them back. The only problem was that even if they did I wouldn't be able to recognise myself anyway.

The last place I went to into my house was my bedroom. I had a box of letters and mementos from my friendship with Lily hidden in a false drawer in my bedside table. I pulled it out and rifled through the contents, and while my heart ached for the past, there was nothing in there I wanted to keep for the future. Whether I lived or died, I wanted nothing to do with the bits of paper and torn photographs anymore. I carefully placed the picture of my mother in a box for safekeeping, but the picture of Lily that was with it went into the other box, the one that was hidden in the drawer. When I looked at it I saw Lily for who she really was. James Potter's wife, a friend that had moved on with her life. She would have wanted me to do the same. When I looked into her laughing green eyes I tried to find the resemblance between her and Harry, but it was difficult. His eyes never laughed the way hers did; there was a miasma, dark and mysterious in his eyes that I never saw in hers. Harry had a kindness in him that neither of his parents actually did, he did not hold a grudge like Lily and he believed in forgiveness. He was talented like his father, but not conceited. All of those days that I wished he was my son with Lily were wasted. Without Lily or James there he could have been my son. He was already my charge because I promised to keep him safe, but we could have been so much more. Now he wanted me to leave him alone, something I would have killed for a few years ago, but was currently was the last thing I wanted.

The longer I stared at the picture the more Lily's features changed. Her long, pin straight hair darkened and curled. Her eyes grew wider and turned a steady milk chocolate brown. She turned into Hermione. I couldn't have Lily, I never would have had Lily because she was always meant for someone else, but Hermione was there. I could have her if I wanted her because she actually wanted me. It just wouldn't be right though, she was so much younger than me, still a student, and vivacious. I wasn't even alive and I didn't know if I ever would be. I felt that if I got to know Hermione the way I wanted to, Death would kill me and rip her away from me again. I was destined for hell. I had no idea what to do.

In the end I settled on writing Hermione a short letter explaining what my current predicament was so that she would know it was really me haunting my hospital room. She would recognise my handwriting easily. I had put enough comments on her prolix essays to make her as familiar with my writing as I was with hers. I appeared to have put her in some sort of shock at the hospital and I would not be surprised if she was still scratching her head in a feeble attempt to determine if it really happened. By now she probably had herself convinced that she was indeed loony. Either that or she was tearing through every library she could find to discover any sort of information that would explain the phenomenon that is me. The letter was short and simply described Dumbledore's visit and the fact that I would live or die at the end of the six months because Death was a bastard and had nothing better to do than to toy with me. I estimated I would return to my body in mid-December. Four months felt like an eternity and I wished I knew why I had to stick around and wait it out. I reread my letter and decided that it was satisfactory. I made it very clear that I had no idea why this was happening to me and that questioning me would not change that. I also stated that I would not see Dumbledore again and I was all right with that. I mentioned that I heard about having to repeat the year and was pleased about it and wished her luck and success for her future. I thought that sounded a bit like a farewell without any room to respond so I ended the letter with, _What is in Australia? _I did not sign it.

I carefully folded the letter and placed it in my pocket and started to leave, but when I walked by my bedroom mirror, I received a shock. The letter was floating in midair at about the height of my hip. Apparently, the magic that kept me invisible only applied to what I was wearing when I got hurt and not to anything else I might put on my person. I couldn't just walk around with that letter visible. I would have to be careful. I reopened the paper and added a side note about not being able to travel with anything and requested paper and pens to be present for our meeting. My curiosity was piqued however, so I went to my wardrobe and lifted one of the cloaks that had been dumped on the floor. Concentrating on feeling with more than my hands I slipped the cloak over my shoulders, it just fell off. I brought it up to my face and rubbed it along my skin. I could feel it there, not the softness of it just the presence of it. I tried to unbutton my own jacket to take it off, but my fingers slipped through. Apparently Death had given more thought to my limitations than I originally believed. I could see the shape of my palm underneath the cloak when I spread it flat on my hand. That was interesting.

I was ready to leave the house, but could not go directly to the hospital just yet. I knew that there would be plenty of healers in my room performing the last of their daily rounds on me. They stayed away all night, quite accustomed to my not needing anything. So, I waited another hour before disappearing and reappearing by my body. Fortunately nobody was in the room, but there was another flower arrangement and a get well card from Molly Weasley added to my table of prizes. I wondered if she delivered them personally. I was sorry to miss her if she did, but there was no way I was going to hang around by my body if I didn't have to.

I was content with sifting through my gifts from admirers for most of the night, but my feet were itching to take me to Grimmauld Place, so I hid the letter for Hermione in the small cupboard and went directly to Godric's Hollow. I had to keep away from Harry, and Hermione, for just a little bit longer. I went over to Lily's grave and sat down right on it. I didn't think she would mind and I didn't care if James did. There was no one else around and the graveyard was dark, but welcoming. I enjoyed old cemeteries. There was something pastoral and sedate about them that made me wish I could sleep there. I was lulled by the gentle whisperings of souls long gone from their bodies and I closed my eyes to absorb their energy. I never feared the dead or death in general. I can't say that enough it seems. Sitting in the graveyard I was able to really contemplate the things Hermione had said. What I feared was living in a world that I could not be a part of. What I was afraid of was that I would wake and everyone would be terrified of me again, I would lose my connection to Hogwarts, and I would live for another hundred years just do to die again, alone and unfulfilled.

The sun was beginning to rise and an eerie glow was washing the headstones in yellow light. To the west there was a grove of trees and to the east stood a little church. The light was filtered and diffused from the branches and the building, but I caught a glimpse of a hooded and cloaked figure in the distance looking directly at me. When I turned my head and focused on the shape the figure was still there and nodded at me, but I was still afraid. It was a reaper, the precursor of Death, the unseen and mysterious figure who stole a person's soul from their body before they passed. Without even having to ask I knew it was the reaper who was supposed to have taken mine. I wanted to stand up and shout that I had until December and that he couldn't take me yet. I actually did stand up, but he was gone by the time I was fully on my feet. My heart was thudding wildly in my chest and I took a few calming breaths. I didn't even know of anyone who had ever seen a reaper, but I just did, and learned my most valuable lesson to date. I wasn't ready to die yet, but neither was I ready to live.

The sun rose further and the early morning light brightened the cemetery. The tombstones took on their individual shades of marble and granite and the words on them became clearer. I made a circuit of the graveyard stopping at all the names I recognised to pay a silent tribute. My route ended once more at the tombstone of Lily and James. In the distance I could hear the voices of early morning worshipers entering the small church. The kissing gate leading into the cemetery clanged open and shut and an elderly couple moved to a bench and sat down holding hands. I imagined it was some ritual for them, to come here in the waking hours of the day. Perhaps there was a loved one buried here, but they sat with their heads held close and leaned into each other. Their bodies moulded together until I could not see where one ended and the other began. I was a witness to love at its purest and most innocent.

I turned away from the couple and traced my finger over the letters of Lily's name.

"I love you, Lily," I said aloud. "I always did, and I always will, but it is time for me to go. If I die, and I know you would want me to live, but if I die, I don't think I will try to find you. I want you to be happy with James. I never wished that for you before now and I hope you will forgive me for that. That is a much worse crime than calling you that name when we were kids, I know, but I would like to think you would give me that.

I am afraid that Death might not let me live. I already know that I can't live without finding love or peace within myself, and I am literally petrified that he knows I have no future on earth and is going to take me away. I am so angry that he has left me here to observe and see what I am missing. I wasn't going to take that though, Lily, so I went one step further and I interacted. I am going to spend time with the people who care about me until my decision is finally realised. I want to take comfort in the fact that Death already knows my fate, but it is difficult. I am not wasting any more time, love. That means I have to say goodbye to you once and for all. There is a part of you that I won't say goodbye too, and that is Harry. I promised once that I would protect him, and I will continue to do so, not just for you, but for all the people that I care about that also love him."

The kissing gate clanged again as the elderly couple walked out of the cemetery and into the little church to join the early weekday service. I watched them go and continued to stare at the church until the tinny notes of a hymn could be heard. The sun was fully up by now and I turned my face toward it. I wanted to feel the warm rays on my pale skin, something I hadn't enjoyed since I was a kid studying by the lake at Hogwarts. The bat of the dungeons, that is who I used to be. If all the people who thought of me that way could see me now, they would be flummoxed. I may have not been visible to the naked eye, but I was there and I could see the light from the sun reflecting off the pale skin covering my hands. To myself I was not ignis fatuus. I was real, and becoming more so with every moment.

I walked out of the graveyard with the sun bathing me the whole way. If this existence was meant to by my penance for all my misdeeds, then moments like this made it worth it. Leaving Lily did not make me feel vacuous and melancholy, it was deliverance. I walked around the village of Godric's Hollow and absorbed the life around me. I smiled at the milkman and newspaper boy, and stopped to watch the children sit at breakfast tables through kitchen windows, happily eating cereal and making plans for their summer day. All of these things were parts of a life that I had never experienced and typically would have avoided. Tomorrow I would go back to not giving a rat's arse about people living happily in their quaint little villages, completely oblivious to the war and terror going on around them, but not today. Today I was enjoying being free and impulsive.

It was impulsivity that prompted my next action. I went back to the hospital, collected the letter I had written for Hermione and left for Grimmauld Place. I arrived in the attic, assuming that no one would be there and I was correct. I wedged the letter in between a couple of beams in the rafters where I knew it would be safe and slowly made my way through the rooms. It was still very early and it seemed the inhabitants of the house were having a bit of a lie in. Kreacher was alone in the kitchens preparing breakfast humming quietly.

Ron was in a room by himself, the one he occupied with Harry during the summer before his fifth year, just after Voldemort returned. He was sprawled out on his back, sleeping open-mouthed and snoring. I felt for Hermione if she ended up with him. He was not a pretty sight to wake up to. I didn't want her with anyone, but I still could not see how being with me would be any better. I was an emotional cripple with no prospects and a dastardly past. She didn't deserve that, but it was getting more difficult for me to care.

I had a bit of a shock when I entered Harry's room. He was using Sirius' old bedroom, but he was not in there alone. Ginny Weasley was wrapped up in his arms and they were sleeping peacefully. My mind filled with the myriad of snarky admonishments I would make if he could see me. I would have given my wand arm to see his face as I loomed over him scowling and waiting for him to wake. He was an adult and this was his house, but I am sure I my menacing presence would send him on a very entertaining spiral of guilt. I wonder if Molly knew Ginny was here being deflowered by the beloved Harry Potter. She probably pushed her into his arms, knowing Molly. Then again, I highly doubted Harry would have been Ginny's first. She was a great student and a talented witch, but she did have a reputation. Still, Potter could do a lot worse.

I backed out of that room and went to the next floor. I found the room that Hermione was staying in. It was directly next to Regulus' old room. Regulus was a good friend of mine and I still don't know how he died. Some say that Voldemort did it himself, but I don't believe that. There was no body and Voldemort liked bodies. For a few years after his disappearance I fantasised that he had just gotten away, and I hated him for not taking me with him, but he would have taken me, and I know that he is dead. I made a mental note to ask Hermione what Harry knew of Regulus. Hermione's robes were hanging in the wardrobe along with a few Muggle outfits. Her trunk lay open and inside there were several books, parchments, and old essays. I recognised my handwriting on a few of them and picked them up to look. I did not give her half the grades she deserved, but she never gave up. On one I had written, _Your feeble attempts to tell me something I don't know are boring me. If you must regurgitate textbook material, please refrain from exceeding the word limit. _I ended my cold remark with a flourishing A when the essay clearly deserved an O. She was brilliant, really, but she had an inability to be original in her writing. I wanted to read something of hers that came only from the cavernous places of her brain and not referenced to death. I had no idea what opinions were hers and which ones could be cited.

Next to the trunk was a Muggle suitcase with a plane ticket sitting on top. It was to Brisbane. She appeared to be in the process of packing for her trip. On the dresser was a collection of feminine items, perfumes, sprays, makeup, and a hairbrush. There were some framed photographs of her and her friends there as well. She was smiling warmly in them all. Everything was there, but her. Her bed was made up and there was no sign of her in the room at all. I already knew she wasn't in the kitchens or with Ron, so that left one place. The library.

I found her there slumped asleep over a pile of books. I carefully shifted a few of them so I could see the titles and my earlier guess was correct. They were all books pertaining to ghosts, spirits, and even a few darker ones on Necromancy. She was trying to find the answer to me in a book. Unfortunately she would never be able to find what she was looking for. I touched her disarrayed hair very gently and lifted it so that I could see her face. Her face looked pinched with stress and I hoped that I was not the cause of it. I dropped her hair but the curl fell across her nose rather than back into place. Without opening her eyes she scrunched up her nose and lifted her hand to scratch it. She looked impossibly cute. The itch was enough to wake her however, and she slowly lifted her head from its uncomfortable position on the table. A piece of parchment stuck to her face and she peeled it off tiredly. A quick glance at her watch woke her up fully.

"Oh my god," she said aloud and started cleaning up the table. Her clothes were rumpled and it was clear she did not wake early and go to the library, but had spent the night in it instead. There was an empty teapot sitting next to her that I had not noticed before, the cup next to it had the dregs still inside. I was debating on making my presence known immediately, but opted against it. I was enjoying watching her. Believe it or not, I had seen this very same routine many times before in the library at Hogwarts. I never made my presence known then, and I wasn't about to start now. She fumbled through the pile of parchment and books until she found her wand and used it to send the books on high shelves back into their places.

The door to the library opened and a tired and annoyed looking Ron stepped in startling Hermione. She dropped the book she was holding and had him in a body bind before he got through the doorway. Brava.

"Merlin's beard, Hermione, let me go," he said angrily struggling against the binds.

Hermione did as she was told. "I'm so sorry, Ron. You scared me."

"You spent the night in here?" he asked, but it was more of a statement. He did not appear happy with her.

I leaned against the table and settled my hand down without looking. I had placed my hand on a piece of parchment and it slipped fractionally, but neither of them noticed.

Hermione's guilty face was answer enough for Ron's questions.

"Never mind, I was kind of hoping that you would choose me over books just once, Hermione. Apparently I was wrong? What in bloody hell could you possibly want to learn about right now, anyway?" he demanded his voice rising.

Hermione took on a defensive stance. "You never cared about what I was reading, why start now? And don't yell at me."

"Well, are you coming down to breakfast?" Ron ignored her remark and opened the door for her to go through, but she stayed rooted to the spot.

"I want to finish cleaning up first, Ron. I will talk to you later," she said turning back to her mess.

"Whatever," Ron said slamming the door behind him. That only angered Hermione even more and she opened the door after him and sent him sailing back towards her with a spell.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she challenged.

"It means that I don't know why I even bother with you! I thought we were going to give things a chance, but you aren't putting forth any effort. I thought after last night you would have at least spent the night. But maybe my technique wasn't good enough and you were in here looking for books that might help me learn, right? Do I not compare to Viktor or Cormac? Am I missing someone? Harry perhaps?"

My hand crumpled the paper as I gripped the table angrily. Thankfully neither of them saw it. I don't know who I was angrier with, Ron for being so cruel or Hermione for imagining that what he was saying might be true.

Hermione reached out and slapped Ron hard across the face. "Cormac? Harry? Are you insane, Ron? I made a huge mistake in telling you about Viktor, and I'm sorry I didn't stay. What I was doing in here had nothing to do with you and now I just want you to leave. I can't even look at you."

Ron ran a hand up and down his bruised cheek. "I don't want to fight with you anymore," he said more gently.

"Neither do I," Hermione sighed slipping into the chair she slept in.

Ron went up to her and put a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged out of it. He looked affronted and reached for hand instead.

"Hermione, I said I don't want to fight, why won't you let me touch you?"

"Ron, don't you see? We have always fought ever since we knew each other. We are just too different. I don't want to fight with you anymore either and I think we managed our fights a lot better when we were just friends." She pulled her hand back and leaned away.

Ron looked crushed. "You don't mean that."

Hermione sighed deeply. "I'm afraid I do. We will be okay, Ron. Trust me, it won't take you long to get over me and everything will go back to normal. Everything _has_ to go back to normal for Harry's sake. You will see in time that we are not a good fit for each other."

"Was it something I did, you know, last night?" he pleaded. I crumpled the paper some more at the image of those two in bed. This time Hermione noticed the paper move. Her eyes widened momentarily before she looked away and focussed on Ron.

"No, don't think that. I don't regret being with you, I just know it won't work. I am leaving for Australia tomorrow anyway and things are going to be different when I get back. I don't want to lose you as a friend, Ron, don't make this anymore difficult than it has to be. Harry needs us all together, now more than ever." She stood up and walked towards the door and held it open.

"You've seemed preoccupied for a long time. When you kissed me at the Final Battle I thought that was it; that you finally wanted to be with me. It was such a great kiss," he almost smiled.

Hermione looked away guiltily.

"What is it?" Ron asked tension mingling with the sadness in his voice.

"That kiss was of gratitude, Ron. I just didn't break it off because I expected we would just end up together. The truth is that I gave up hope of a relationship with you after the Yule Ball. When you finally showed interest in me I gave it a chance to see if rekindled anything. I don't have a lot of prospects after all," Hermione cringed after she heard what she said.

Ron flushed deeply. "So, you were just settling then? Is there someone else that you wish you could be with instead, but he's taken?"

"No! I wasn't settling!" she shouted in defiance, but then more quietly added, "and yes. I just made a mistake and I'm sorry, but it won't work."

"It better not be Harry, he is with Ginny," Ron stated bitterly.

"It's not."

"Who is it then?"

Hermione looked directly at the place where I was standing. Her eyes focussed on the piece of paper I had crumpled. She shifted her gaze back to Ron's and looked directly in his eyes.

"It doesn't matter. It's just not you," she said evenly.

I wasn't sure how to feel about that. It was a precursor to what things would be like if I lived and we were together. It would be difficult for her to explain our relationship to anyone. I felt like a paedophile all of a sudden, like I was the criminal and she would have to suffer to be with me.

"I don't give second chances, Hermione," Ron growled, his face burning with fury.

Hermione looked meaningfully out the library door. "I don't need one."

Ron finally took the hint and stalked off. She remained at the door for a few moments and appeared to be waiting for something. Sure enough, both Ginny and Harry appeared in the doorway.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked.

"Ron and I broke up," Hermione stated bluntly. "He is angry, but everything will be just fine."

"What'd he do?" Ginny queried. "Oh, who cares? He is a git and it never would have worked between you two anyway."

"Ginny! He is your brother!" Harry reprimanded. I smiled at her simple, but accurate observation.

"Harry, I know what you're thinking, but everything is going to be fine, all right? Will you trust me?" Hermione pleaded.

"I don't know, Hermione. You have been awfully hard to trust lately."

Ginny looked at Harry in surprise, but Hermione's face started to crumple.

"You know I had my reasons. Please don't be angry with me." Hermione wiped away at a tear.

"Harry," Ginny said putting a calming hand on his arm. "She's right; they never would have worked out. We have talked about this before. You three will be much closer as friends once this blows over. It is better for them to break up now before it goes on too long."

Listen to her, Potter, I wanted to say. Harry seemed to consider his girlfriend's words as he searched Hermione's eyes. She was clearly begging for him forgiveness. After a moment he sighed deeply and pulled Hermione into a tight hug. She gratefully wrapped her arms around him too.

"I love you, Hermione. I need you in my life, but you are hiding something from me, and I know it has something to do with those memories," he whispered in her ear so Ginny couldn't understand. Ginny took the hint and patted Harry and Hermione both on the back before leaving them alone.

"You are right, and I want to tell you, but I can't until the right moment because I think you will be angry with me even more than you are now," she replied.

"What could possibly be that bad?" Harry asked.

Hermione looked towards the crumpled paper again, but I had moved to the chair by this point. "It is not bad; it is just a matter of perspective."

"Just tell me, damn it! I'm supposed to be your best friend." Harry shut the door hard behind him and advanced on Hermione.

She took a step back. "Fine, I broke up with Ron because I will never love him that way. My heart is already taken by someone else."

"What does that have to do with Snape's memories?" he said before something clicked and his eyes widened in disbelief. "No, not him."

I was hurt. He hated me so much he couldn't even bear his friend having feelings for me. I expected him to not understand, but his shock was too real, and too much like how everyone else would react. I knew that without his approval, Hermione would be forced to choose between me and him, and I would never, ever, put her in that position.

Harry began pacing the room. "I mean it makes perfect sense, all the extra work you put in potions, how you refused to believe anything bad we ever said about him, and how you continued to trust him even after he killed Dumbledore. I congratulate you on being right about him, but you know what scares me? It's that I know you too well to believe that this is a school girl crush that will go away. You aren't like that."

"You're right, Harry," Hermione whispered, her face flaming. "It is how I feel and nothing will change it."

"You've been so sad, Hermione. I know you miss your parents and are having a hard time dealing with the war, but even if he doesn't die, do you really think he would want to be with you? Don't you think you are just setting yourself up to get hurt some more?"

"That is a risk I am willing to take, Harry. I am not asking for your approval, just your acceptance. You don't really know him, Harry," Hermione argued.

"Neither do you! I know his cruelty was an act, but that does not automatically mean he is going to want to be propositioned by a student!"

"What would you have me do then? I can't just turn it off!" Hermione cried.

Harry stopped his pacing and looked closely at his friend. "This is going to drive Ron further away."

"Is that all you care about? Keeping this precious trio together? I will always be here for you, and so will Ron. He. Will. Get. Over. It." She bit out each word through gritted teeth.

Harry said nothing, but he nodded slightly. "This is a lot to take in, Hermione. I think going to find your parents will help all of us put things in perspective. Are you sure you don't want me to come?"

Hermione shoulders sagged with relief. Apparently that was as close to acceptance as she was going to get from Harry.

"Thank you, Harry, but no, I need to do this on my own."

"I will never understand you and your big brain," he tapped her head, "and your big heart." He placed a hand on her chest before pulling her close to him again. "I just want you to be happy."

"I will be." She pulled out of the hug. "I am going to pack and leave for Hogwarts and stay there until my flight. I will miss you and Ron too. Have faith that everything will turn out all right. Find Ron a new girlfriend while I am away."

Harry chuckled. "See you, Hermione."

She lifted a hand in farewell. When he was gone she silenced the room and locked the door.

"Professor?" she asked the seemingly empty room. She did not sound very happy and I was tempted to not respond and let her think I was gone, but in the end I couldn't. I lifted her teacup from the table and tapped it once. She leant forward and ripped it out my hand and threw it against the wall with a crash.

"Damn you! What are you doing here?"

* * *

**A/N: Clearly the bit about Hermione not being into Ron does not come from canon. Anything you recognise as a contradiction from canon, just assume it is intentional. This is a fan fic after all. I was in one heck of a writing mood this weekend, but am tired. I hope you enjoy this instalment as much as I do. **

**Okay, so I got some great reading suggestions from you guys, but I am going to beg for just a couple more. Here are ones that you guys recommended that I have already read (and loved I might add) Denial (loved it so much I read it twice), The Problem with Purity, The Gilded Cage, and the Apprentice and the Necromancer (which is really good, but kind of depressing because Hermione gets injured way too much), and A Proper Romance. I would recommend any of those stories to any of you if you haven't read them. Also, if you are a writer yourself and you want me to read your stuff, let me know and I will give you some shameless plugs. I am all about promoting each other!**


	9. Reparation's Beginnings

Disclaimer: I am not JKR

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 9

Reparation's Beginnings

"How long have you been spying on me? How many other people do you spy on? That conversation was meant to be private! I am so embarrassed," Hermione hid her flaming face in her hands.

I instantly felt remorseful. It might have been better to have just pretended I wasn't there and let her think the paper crumpling was a figment of her imagination. I had clearly made a social gaffe without even thinking about it. I was getting horribly soft in my invisibility. I owed the girl my life, the least I could have done was not spy on her. I should have left.

"Are you even still here?" she mumbled through her hands. I quickly fished around for something to write with, and finding a quill, I pulled a loose sheet of parchment out of a pile and hastily wrote.

_Yes, I was horribly rude to eavesdrop and I apologise. As much as it pains me to admit, my curiosity got the better of me. _

She put her hands down at the sound of a quill scratching across paper and looked at the table. She mouthed each word as I wrote it and then read it again in full. Her face was blank as she ran a fingertip over the ink smudging it.

"That really is your handwriting," she murmured distractedly. "I thought I was dreaming, imagining things, but it really is you. And you spied on me! For how long?"

I debated telling her about the argument I witnessed at Hogwarts, but thought better of it.

_This is the first time; I arrived just before you woke, except I was always there when you visited me._

Her face burned even more brightly.

"It is one thing to imagine that an incapacitated person can hear you, but another to know it is true. You saw everything with Ron and Harry then? You heard what was said? About what I erm, did?" she was still angry, but her tone was softening as her embarrassment increased.

I am positive she was referring to her sex life, and I could see why discussing it would be distressing, but I was mortified as well.

_You owe me no explanations. I am sorry your day is off to such a rough start._

Feeble response, I know, but this situation was entirely new to me. I did not know how to behave; I only knew that I was not ready to leave yet.

"I feel like I should explain Ron, though. I admitted my feelings for you directly to you, and I had a boyfriend. I feel disloyal, that is one reason why I had to break up with him," she offered anyway.

I really did not want to hear anymore about it. It was getting to the difficult point in the day when I would have to tell her to move on with her life without me. I know that I was being incredibly selfish keeping myself there and talking to her, but I wanted the company for as long as I could before it was over. I didn't think it was a good idea to let myself be known to anyone else, and once I ended connections with Hermione, I would be too alone, for too long.

_I said you owe me nothing._

A knock on the door had Hermione quickly covering the parchment. I laid the quill down and moved to a corner of the room out of habit. Neither of us needed to worry. It was only Kreacher.

"Master Harry sent me with breakfast, miss. And the Prophet." Kreacher scuttled to the table, laid down the tray and disappeared. His manners had approved a hundredfold, I wonder what Potter did to improve the elf's disposition. I remembered Granger had some sort of elfish welfare movement in the works a few years ago. I wondered if that was still going on, but didn't want to ask. There were other things I was more concerned about, and my time was limited.

"Why are you hear, Professor?" she asked as she poured herself a fresh cup of tea and buttered some toast. "I would offer you breakfast, but since you obviously can't have any..."

She trailed off. I did not mind her eating breakfast by any means, but food appreciation is more of a mental thing, and I still missed certain flavours. I would have loved a cup of hot tea.

"Why are you here? I thought we agreed to meet tomorrow at Hogwarts," she repeated.

I pulled the parchment towards me and wrote.

_I could not wait,_

Her eyes brightened and she started to smile.

_Not like that, _I continued writing hastily. _I know what you are thinking. I did not want to delay the inevitable that is all. I was hoping to have one last conversation with you and I did not want to leave you hanging until tomorrow._

Partly true. She looked crushed. She dropped her toast back on the plate and wiped the crumbs from her hands.

"Harry is right isn't he? You would never accept me." It was a statement. I feared she would cry, but her eyes remained dry. She was strong.

I hesitated before I wrote my response. I did not want to hurt her anymore than I had to.

_I do not doubt your feelings for me, but I fear that if you really knew me they would surely change. Right now, I am nothing more than an idea and I do not want you to labour under any sort of misapprehensions about me. I have nothing to offer you; I can't even guarantee that I will live for you, and pursuing me would be reckless. You are young, you have a promising future, and I am a cruel man with a sordid history. You do not need that in your life._

"Who are you to decide what is best for me? Why does everyone do that? I am an adult and I am perfectly capable of making my own decisions. I don't give a damn what anybody thinks. I didn't think you were the type to care either," her voice rose ever so slightly the longer she talked. After a couple of deep breaths she spoke again. "Tell me the truth, Professor, if you don't want me then just say so."

I could not respond right away because the truth was already more complicated than I had expected.

_I am no longer your professor. _I wrote as a distraction, which I knew wouldn't work on her. She had a singularly focussed mind and I would have to disappear to avoid her question altogether, and then I would have felt guilty for denying her the truth.

"What am I to call you, then? And don't change the subject," she snapped at the thin air above the poised quill.

My own temper was actually beginning to flare up. I wanted to hear her say my given name. I wanted to hear the susurrus alliteration slip from her tongue and caress me like a soft breeze, but I could not, would not lead her on anymore if I was not willing to commit when I woke. At first I wanted months of conversations with her, but I could already see that it was going to hurt me if it ended. I didn't love her by any means, but I definitely had a regard.

_It is much more complicated than my simply not wanting you. _

"Then explain."

_It would be unlike me to explain myself to you._

I was being callous and I knew it, but I wasn't sure how to phrase what I was about to say.

"You spied on me, Severus. You owe me something," she said not even realising her slip. My name washed over me just like I thought it would. I softened slightly, but not enough.

_You have everything I say in writing and that exhibits a large amount of trust on my part, perhaps you could reciprocate. I apologised for my behaviour once already._

She looked contrite. "Fine, but if this is the last time you plan to speak with me, then at least leave in me in no doubt of your feelings."

It was funny how I could stand before Voldemort and have my mind invaded to the point of blinding pain without cracking, but having this beautiful young woman demand that I either accept her or break her heart was almost too much for me to bear. I thought back to when I admitted my love for Lily and begged for her forgiveness. She trampled over my heart and would not even consider giving me a second chance, not even for friendship. Could I really do that to Hermione when I could actually see myself with her? Didn't I owe myself a little happiness? Merlin knows I wanted it. I was getting more and more perplexed and annoyed with my current state so when I scratched out the next sentence, even I was surprised to see it.

_I don't know if I am supposed to be atoning for my sins or looking for the things that are worth living for._

I still didn't answer her question, I know, but it was the most honest thing I could think of to say. She puzzled over my words for a few moments absently drinking her tea before she said anything.

"Your sins? What did you do that wasn't out of necessity?" she asked gently reaching out to touch the quill. She ruffled the feather just above my hand and I knew it was a cold substitute for not being able to reach out and touch me instead.

_I became a Death Eater. Do you really want to be with an ex Death Eater? _

"If you never became a Death Eater you would not have been able to become a spy, and protect Harry, and otherwise save the world. You probably never would have ended up teaching at Hogwarts. You can believe that you are supposed to be atoning for your sins, but it would be a poor way to show your gratitude that you aren't dead yet by not finding what might make you happy. In the end, you have to forgive yourself, the rest of the world has already forgiven you," she said fervently.

Hermione was wiser and much more mature than I ever gave her credit for. I was not going to argue with her about becoming a Death Eater because I still slightly disagreed, but she did put it into a different perspective. Who was I to argue with fate when I was the middle of one fate's games at the current moment?

_I want to be normal, Granger. I don't know how to do that. _

"Who does?" she quipped a small smile lifting the corners of her mouth.

_Good point. _

Hermione sat shredding her toast for another minute not saying anything. She appeared deep in thought.

"You still haven't told me your feelings. I don't expect you to care for me like I do you, but is there anything? Anything at all beyond curiosity, and the desire to talk to me out of boredom?"

_Of course there is, otherwise I would not have communicated with you in the first place. I don't exactly know what those feelings are. This is difficult for me. Even though you cannot see me, I feel horribly exposed admitting these things to you. I don't want to hurt you._

"The only thing that would hurt me is if you were unhappy," she whispered tears starting to form in her eyes.

We were both vulnerable, laying there with our hearts open and bleeding. What is the point when someone just realises they can't walk away for a normal person? A person who didn't grow up in an unhappy home with few friends and many enemies? What I was feeling had to be fate. I didn't even love her yet and I still knew that I would never be able to leave her. Something inside of me just switched on, and part of the person I was trying to be woke up. It was more than just the idea of her that appealed to me. It was the very real possibility of her.

_What if I don't wake up?_

"It is a risk I am willing to take, but I think we both know you will," she said her eyes still watering, but happier this time.

_I am a mean, callous man. I am used to being on my own._

"Is that what you really want though? Being alone? Don't you want more than that? A life free of war and violence? A comfortable home, a good job, a family?" she rushed out.

When she mentioned a job I was reminded of something that else that I lost perhaps forever. Teaching. I wanted my job back if I lived. Plain and simple.

_Yes, it is. _I admitted. _Can I tell you something?_

"Please do."

_It might surprise you. It is about teaching._

"What? That you actually liked it and want to do it still? As snarky as you could be, it was obvious you liked to mould young minds. I was never insulted by a lot of your comments when I should have been because I knew you were only pushing me. Your methods had a little to be desired, but there were reasons for them, I know that now," she responded cheerfully. I couldn't help but laugh, and be grateful that she knew me better than I thought. Her intuition regarding me was spot on, and that thing inside of me that awakened grew stronger with the knowledge that she had paid attention to the one thing over the years that was truly me, teaching.

_It doesn't surprise you, then. If I wake up, I would want my job back. It distresses me that I might be shut out of Hogwarts forever._

"Shut out? Are you kidding me? Professor McGonagall keeps hoping you wake up before term so that you might be well enough to start teaching again soon. Face it, Professor, you are a hero and your job is secure. If you don't believe me, come to my lunch with her tomorrow and I will get her to admit it. It is laughable to think that you are the only one who doesn't think highly of yourself. There will be some people who are still afraid of you, but really, you have no idea how badly the community wants you back. The only people you really have to fear are Slytherins and I bet even they will come around in time. Not _all_ of them were loyal to Voldemort after all. But what is a little opposition when it is something you love?" Hermione was in her stride, it was clear that I was forgiven for spying and she was content enough with my admissions to relax.

_I am not worried about the Slytherins. I am sure that my looming presence, billowing robes, and menacing features will keep my reputation intact. Just because I want to teach and enjoy it does not make the students any less idiotic. _

It was Hermione's turn to laugh. "No, Professor it doesn't, but I understand the appeal. I want to teach too, Transfiguration. My lunch with Professor McGonagall tomorrow is to discuss the terms of an apprenticeship during the next school year."

For awhile there I had completely forgotten she was still a student.

_You just pointed out one more complication to your feelings for me._

"That I am a student?"

_Yes, it would be inappropriate for both of us. Even if I did not get my job back._

"If it weren't for the war, I _wouldn't_ be a student, and I am almost nineteen. I have been an adult for two years now," she retorted.

_Another issue, our age difference._

"So what?" she snapped. "Wizards live a long time, and age doesn't mean anything and you know it. In the wizarding world twenty years is like five in the Muggle world and my parents are seven years apart."

_We would have to maintain a professional relationship until you graduated. _

"Right, we'll see about that." She was being brazen and I liked that. She knew exactly what she wanted and who she was. I envied her that.

Hermione glanced at her watch. "Look Professor Snape, I really need to go pack and leave for Hogwarts before Ron comes back up here. You said before that you had plans for a specific conversation with me before you left me altogether. Do you still want to have it?"

I really did. My options were to wander around London, bored and unseen, or talk to someone as smart and beautiful as Hermione Granger. I chose the latter.

_There is a letter in the attic that I wedged into the rafters. I can't carry things because they are still visible, as you have probably noticed. It will explain things regarding my current situation a little better I hope. _

Hermione picked up the parchment that I had been writing on and rolled it up. She also grabbed the quill and a pot of ink.

"Meet me up there and give it to me then." With a quick movement she unwarded the room and opened the door. I disappeared into the attic and retrieved the letter. She arrived a moment later with her large and furry half-kneazle. I would recognise that sinfully ugly cat anywhere.

Crookshanks sniffed the air and then approached me. He hissed gently and my eyes widened in surprise. He could see me, or sense me. I reached down to pat him and was astonished to see that not only could I feel him, but I could feel his texture and his warmth. I really knew very little about Kneazles, not having much of an interest in magical creatures that were relatively benign and not used in potions.

"Professor!" Hermione exclaimed. "I brought him up here to chase mice for a bit, but my cat can see you!"

I tapped the letter in my hand against a support beam once for yes. She quickly held the paper out to me and I took it and the quill and quickly scratched out a note.

_Interesting. I will have to read more on kneazles. Have you any books?_

"Yes, but none that say they can see invisible people, or people that aren't really there that is. I know they can recognise Animagi and have a good sense of judgment,"

I interrupted by placing my letter over her mouth to silence her. I quickly scratched out another note.

_I will find something to read, thanks. _

She blushed again. I was beginning to like her blushes. Hermione just nodded curtly and plucked the letter out of my grasp, or out of thin air, depending on the perspective.

"I really need to pack and leave; will you meet me at Hogwarts later?"

_Yes, _I scrawled. The parchment was quite full.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked.

_Yes, banish that copy of the Daily Prophet to my old potion's lab. I would like to read it. I will return it._

"Its potions, isn't it?"

_What?_

"You don't want to teach Defence anymore, you want your potions job back don't you?" she asked eagerly.

_I uh, yes, I do, _I faltered. It really was true.

"Can I trust you to go and not spy on me anymore? I will come and get you out the lab as soon as I get settled at the school. I will have to explain to Professor McGonagall why I am there a day early and it might take awhile. Just promise you won't spy," she demanded.

_I won't. Just send the paper and I will keep myself occupied. _

"Okay, see you later then." Hermione waved and went out the door.

I said I wouldn't spy on her, but I didn't say I wouldn't spy on Harry. I went down to the kitchen and saw him and Ginny in a lip lock. Lesson learnt. I will avoid him for awhile when Ginny is around. Without seeking out Ron I left for my room at St. Mungos. I wanted to check on my body before I went to Hogwarts.

I had visitors when I arrived. Minerva, Filius, and Poppy were all in the room doing a series of diagnostic charms. Minerva stopped a moment after I arrived and straightened up.

"Don't you feel him?" she asked her colleagues. "I can sense that he is with us."

Poppy and Filius gave each other saddened glances. The seasoned medi-witch put a comforting hand on Minerva's arm. "We know how much you want him back, Minerva. Stop feeling guilty for how you treated him last year. None of us knew who he really was and it was better that way. If we knew he would have been dead long ago."

She was absolutely right, of course. Minerva shrugged off her hand refusing any comfort. "I would have helped him. Wake up, Severus!"

Flitwick looked at Minerva uncomfortably for a moment before stepping closer to my body. He touched my neck and my wrists feeling my pulse.

"It is amazing. His pulse is strong, his colour is normal; it really appears as if he is just sleeping. He isn't even losing weight like typical coma patients. It is as if his body is in a stasis," the little man marvelled.

My body did look well, if I could say so myself. I wanted to live with all my being in that moment and it was clear that my body was reflecting that emotion. I panicked slightly at the thought that Death was just teasing me and I wouldn't wake up, and my heartbeat faltered. The three of them all noticed and pounced on me with their wands out casting diagnostics again.

"Severus!" Minerva exclaimed. "He can hear us, I know."

"I don't doubt it," murmured Poppy with wonder. "In all my years..." she trailed off a hand over her heart.

Two things became unequivocally clear to me at that moment. I was a part of the world. If I lived I would not have to live on the fringe if I did not want to. These people, my colleagues, my friends, still wanted me there after all I had done. The other thing clear was that I wanted to remember this if I woke. I held no doubt in my mind that if I died I would remember every moment of my time in limbo, but if I lived? I was not so sure. I wanted to remember this moment when I could hear them call out to me and I was free to let the emotions I felt fill my face. I had nothing to hide behind, no reputation to maintain, no mask to wear, and I wanted to live with the memory always.

The three of them slowly filed out of the room leaving me alone, but I did not linger either. I disappeared and reappeared at Hogsmeade. I hadn't been there since before I got hurt and figured I had time to walk from there to the castle before Hermione even arrived let alone found me in my lab. The day was full of surprises because when I arrived I saw Draco Malfoy working at Madam Rosmerta's establishment. Not inside, but outside with Muggle tools hanging a newly built sign above her door. He looked very lonely, and I wished I could have talked to him, but I wasn't ready to deal with that part of my life. The Malfoys would have to wait. I assumed though, that Draco was in the midst of performing manual labour for his community service. It would do him good.

I continued down a side street just looking around when I stumbled across a house with a for sale sign in front of it. It was bigger than a cottage, but still not extremely large and very quaint looking. Either it survived the war, or it was newly rebuilt. I did not know if it was unoccupied so I did not venture inside, but I did go round the back and was stunned by the view. It had a lovely view of the castle and the Black Lake glistened in the sun. Every house on the street had that magnificent view. I wondered what could possibly compel a person to vacate such a home. I only hoped it was not because the inhabitants were victims of Voldemort's senseless massacre. It would be generations before the repercussions of this war were no longer felt. And by then there would probably be a new one to fight. It was the ultimate dichotomy that humanity could be so full of hope, yet hopelessly unable to learn at the same time.

I retraced my steps back to the cobbled street and made my way to the castle's main gate. My timing was perfect. Not that I needed anyone to open the gate for me, but I arrived just in time to see Hagrid opening it for Minerva and Hermione. They must have bumped into each other in Hogsmeade. Hagrid was carrying Hermione's trunk and suitcase easily while she clutched a cat basket. Hagrid looked happy and he was booming loudly about how 'right pleased ter see ya' to both of the women. True to my promise not to listen in, I went directly to my lab from there.

Sitting on my desk was not only the paper I requested, but the Quarterly Potions Review, and the July edition of the Journal of Experimental Potions. I dug through the desk looking for ink and the fountain pens I preferred over quills, and some parchment for note taking. I eagerly sifted through the table of contents in each and underlined the articles I knew that I would want to visit later. I was infinitely entertained by al l things academia and I esteemed Granger even more her thoughtfulness.

I was so engrossed in the second of the articles that I wanted to read that I almost missed the light knock on the door.

"Professor," Hermione said softly through the door. "I can't get in, the wards have been reset."

I closed the journal and went to let her in. Naturally, there would be a new password set. I wondered it was. The door opened uneventfully though, the castle clearly recognising my presence, or else there would have been an alert. She accidently walked through my arm causing me to rock back on my heels. It was a very intimate thing feeling her pass through me like that. I could hear her heart pounding and see the blood rushing to her face, so clearly she felt it too. I am sure if the heart beating in my chest was not a simulacrum, she would have heard it too. The only thing I can compare it to is when someone accidently brushes hands with their first love and you feel a spark of something more. Composing myself I went and sat behind the desk again.

Hermione stood for a moment looking a little lost. The letter I wrote her was clutched in her hand. I got up again and pushed forward the extra chair so that it was not directly opposite me because that seemed to formal, but more to the side of my desk. I sat back down and swivelled in my chair so that she could see where I was. She cottoned on quickly and sat down.

"Did you see the article?" she asked pointing at the Prophet.

I glanced over at the Prophet and saw that she had drawn a circle around a headline and folded the paper so that the article was right on top. I shook out the paper and began to read.

_**Local Reporters Press Charges**_

_Three journalists, who wish to remain anonymous, for the Daily Prophet, have pressed assault charges against the security staff at St. Mungo's Hospital in London. Allegedly the security personnel in question stunned the reporters and physically removed them from the hospital when they were attempting to question Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ronald Weasley while they were on their way to visit a VIP patient. A representative of the Prophet says the incident was representative of police brutality and will not be tolerated._

I remembered that incident very well.

_Head of hospital security, Simon Dodd, maintains that the conduct of the guards was appropriate and necessary. "There are strict guidelines regulating media in the hospital, and those reporters were entering a ward where only authorised personnel are allowed. That ward has extra security to protect the VIP and there are several notices posted barring the media. We are already on high alert due to the risk involved with housing such a patient and have gone to great lengths to ensure that he is protected." Representatives from the Prophet are prepared to take the case to trial stating that the reporters could have been seriously injured by the brutality regardless of what hospital rules they may have broken by entering the restricted ward. Potter was unavailable for comment. _

_In the meantime, Franklin Small and Augustine Hamm have been suspended with pay until further notice. The Prophet is challenging the hospital to terminate their employment, but Simon Dodd refuses to take any further action until a full investigation has been completed. As for claims that Severus Snape has indeed warranted the extra protection he has received remains to be seen. There are no threats to his life recorded to date. For more information on hospital policies and procedures see page 9._

Severus shifted the paper and set it down.

"It's terrible isn't it? You were there that day. Did you see?The guards_ were _cruel. I don't see how they can get away with it!" Hermione exclaimed vehemently. I pulled forward a loose sheet of blank parchment and wrote.

_We are still functioning slightly as if it were a wartime situation, Granger. Mistakes tend to be made._

Her brows knitted together as she read my words. "Are you condoning it?"

_Not at all, I am simply pointing out that people tend to be extreme in their reactions during times like these. I should just be grateful for the protection, shouldn't I? For me it is a double edged sword._

"I happen to be a champion of human rights, and I know you have more compassion than that, sir. Or, at least I hope you do." She crossed her arms huffily.

I agreed with her, but I was enjoying the argument. She did not appear in the mood to be goaded, however so I attempted to end it, however I just played devil's advocate.

_These things take time to go away. If justice isn't served I am sure you will feel free to voice your opinion in as many avenues as possible. In the meantime allow the due process of the law to take effect. _

She did not like that.

"I can't just sit by!"

_Then, when they come after you to be a witness, carefully choose your side. You don't want to make enemies at the Prophet or at the Hospital._

"Hmph." Hermione turned her head away from me for a moment and pursed her lips in a very Minverva-ish signal of disapproval. I chuckled and just let her stew.

"Aren't you at all worried about yourself?" she finally asked.

_Should I be? You seem to have a problem with the lengths the hospital is willing to go to protect me, yet you think I should be more worried about my safety?_

"Touché," she conceded.

_No, I am not worried. _I really wasn't. The last thing I cared about was vengeful and rogue Death Eaters. If I was meant to be killed, I would have been already.

Hermione relaxed slightly and fiddled with the letter in her hand.

"My parents are in Australia," she said. "I was worried for their safety so I modified their memories, made them forget they had a daughter, and sent them packing to Australia before I went on the run. I am going to go find them."

I was impressed and dispirited for her at the same time. That was an incredible sacrifice, but a good one. Nobody knew better than I did how fortuitous it was for her to do that. I was present when Voldemort gave the order to kill her parents. A Death Eater actually died when he failed to complete the mission because they were gone.

_That is very difficult magic, and a very tough decision to make. You chose wisely; take comfort in the fact that you protected them._

"Do you know something I don't?" she asked, but she didn't really sound as if she wanted to hear the answer.

_Yes._

"Was it you, were you the one who was supposed to ki—go after them?" her eyes begged for a negative.

_No, it was not me. Are you going to restore their memories?_

Hermione let out a long breath in relief. I don't think either of us would have been able to bear it if I were to be the one to kill her parents. I probably would have done it, and then I would have wanted to kill myself, just like I did after I murdered Dumbledore. I never assassinated anyone. I don't know how I avoided the task. Voldemort ordered me to torture, but never to kill. I told her as much.

"That is a relief. I wish there was something I could do to make it better for you," she whispered.

_Don't pity me._

"I don't, sir," I didn't understand why she had become so formal all of a sudden.

_Call me, Severus._

I was already past the point of no return.

"Call me Hermione, then, Severus." My name slipped off her tongue like silk. I never considered my name to be sexy, but it was coming from her in those sibilant tones.

"Hermione," I said aloud for the first time. Part of me was glad that she could not hear the tenderness in my voice that shocked my own ears.

"I will be travelling to Australia as a Muggle and will only use magic if I don't find them within a week or two. I don't want to risk Apparating in Australia because I have never been there, I don't know the country. The tickets I bought them when I sent them away were for Brisbane, so I will begin there," she ploughed on. I could hear the nerves firing up a notch in her tone.

_Are you sure it is wise to go alone? And, are you going to restore their memories?_

I did not want her to go alone. It sounded dangerous, and she was a Muggle born in dangerous times.

"I don't want Harry or Ron if that is what you mean. They never really considered my parents because I spent so much time away. Harry didn't even have much to say when I told him what I did. I know they understand, but I would rather go alone. I kind of need a break from them." She stared across the room deep in thought. "No, I will not restore their memories yet. I want to be sure that they will be safe if they return first."

_That is probably a good idea, though I believe they would be safe. Are you worried they will be angry with you?_

"Terrified."

_I am uncomfortable with you travelling alone._

"I can take care of myself," she said slightly petulantly. "I have lived on the run for a year already, remember?"

_Yes, I remember, but you were not alone. I fear that this particular trip will lead you to dangers that are more emotional in nature than physical. _

"Your concern is touching. Have you always been this nice?" she asked smiling in my general direction.

I smiled back. _Don't tell anyone, I have a reputation to protect._

She laughed brightly and it was like music to my ears. I haven't heard a genuine mirthful laugh in ages. I couldn't even remember the last time I laughed.

"Why don't you come with me?" she blurted.

_What? _I scribbled quickly.

"I mean it," she continued in a rush. "No offense, but you have nothing else to do, and you could observe my parents for me when I find them, and you could tell me what their life is like. I would hate myself to find out if they were miserable, but I have to know and you could help me."

_I don't know, Hermione._ The idea was appealing in a way. It would be something I could do to repay her for helping me in the Shrieking Shack and befriending me now, but it felt like too much, too soon. I enjoyed talking to her, but a trip was emphatically personal.

_I would not be able to protect you._

"I am not asking for protection, you insufferable man. Just your assistance and if we happen to find that we like each other a little more while we are away, then all the better. It says in your letter that you have until December, and that is plenty of time. I have to be back before term anyway."

That little chit. I can't believe she called _me_ insufferable. Did she not have any idea how intolerable she could be? She had me convinced though, I may as well go.

_Oh, all right then, but we will have to lay some ground rules. I enjoy talking to you, but I do like my quiet too._

She beamed widely showing all of even white teeth. I was going to get mine fixed first thing if I woke up. They were really the only feature I was self-conscious about.

"Excellent!" she exclaimed and got right to work sharing all the details of the trip with me. I helped her fine tune her plans and when she left me for dinner, she almost had me convinced that we were going on a holiday rather than a reconnaissance mission. I wasn't going to disillusion her and I hoped she was able to have a little fun while she was away.

How did I go from wanting to end it completely to going away with her? I have no idea, but I don't regret it.

* * *

**A/N: Hey all, thanks for all the lovely reviews I have gotten, and I want to remind you to please sign in! I love responding to reviews and I am more than happy to do so, so if you want a response, sign in and I will send you one. For those of you, who don't sign in; know that I appreciate your reviews!**

**The recommendations I got for reading are fantastic. I have enough to keep me busy for ages!**


	10. Can't you hear the thunder?

The usual disclaimers apply.

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 10

Can't You Hear? Can't You Hear the Thunder?

_So, how long is this flight supposed to be? _I asked Hermione in the Gryffindor common room. It was very late in the evening and she had just gotten away from the staff who insisted on taking her out to the Three Broomsticks to celebrate her upcoming apprenticeship. I was happy for her, but I did not go along. It suited me just fine. I still had no desire to attend large social gatherings, not when I could finally read again. I would peak in on them some other time.

"It's twenty-five hours including a two hour layover in Dubai." She tucked the ticket into her travel bag and zipped it up. She sounded cheerful enough, but her eyes betrayed her worry. I wished there was something to do to make finding her parents easier, but there was nothing. I know she was concerned that when she restored their memories, they would be less than forgiving. I didn't know her parents well enough to offer her any platitudes, and I wouldn't have offered them if I did.

_That is hideous. I realise my father is a Muggle, but I never understood Muggle air travel. It seems unnecessarily foolish._

Hermione huffed. "More foolish than balancing unprotected on a broomstick and travelling at ninety miles an hour hundreds of feet above the earth?"

_Exceptionally so. I am quite comfortable on a broomstick because I know the pilot. I happen to be a skilled flyer._

"With and without a broom," she mumbled under her breath. I set the quill down in a symbol of agitation. She was clearly referring to the little skill I learned from Voldemort. I was not proud of that. It was a dangerous spell and only dark wizards ever really used it.

"I'm sorry, Severus," she said in my general direction. "That was cold."

_I have no intention of flying that way again, _I wrote in defence.

"Good, it is frightening to see. I never meant to accuse of anything," she added.

_I know._

She yawned and stretched. "Well, everything is ready. Are you sure you're going to be okay just wandering around the plane if the seats next to me are taken? It is an awfully long flight."

_I will be fine, you are tired. Go get some sleep, we have an early morning. _Hermione's cat crawled out from underneath one of the squashy armchairs, stretched languidly and then settled himself next to me. He purred contentedly as I scratched his head.

"He likes you. I am jealous that he can see you." She reached over and petted the ginger fur ball on the head. He gave loud mwwrrrp and waddled off towards the staircase, tail in the air. "Do you wish that I could see you?"

_Sometimes, _I replied honestly. I wasn't really ready for anyone to see the expressions I had on my face when I was talking to her sometimes. I would have to start practising being stern and emotionless again. She stood up to follow Crookshanks up the stairs to her room.

"What are you going to do until morning?"

_Library. _I had spent every moment in there since I agreed to go with Hermione to Australia.

"Good night, Severus," she said before taking the quill and parchment with her up to her room. She was taking great pains to keep our conversations hidden. She was also keeping every word I wrote down. It was kind of sweet in a puppy love sort of way, but I wanted her to keep those stacks of parchment in case I needed to read them again someday.

I decided to take a leaf out of Hermione's book and was perusing through the restricted section in the library trying to find anything that resembled what I was going through. I was sure that Death had toyed with other people besides me who had lived to tell the tale. I had just found a promising tome right before Hermione came to get me to go over the schedule one last time. The book was lying where I left it on the table earlier. It was a small volume I found in the Necromancy section. I wasn't really a spirit to be summoned, but the book did not really seem to be about channelling the dead, or the undead for that matter. It was titled interviews from the beyond, and actually held firsthand accounts from people who claimed to have 'seen the light.' After flipping through the book for about an hour I realised it belonged in the Divination section. It was just a bunch of frauds moaning about seeing a bright white light, but then regaining consciousness. Some of them described in great detail hallucinations they had while unconscious. None of it was similar to my situation and I tossed the book aside.

The problem was that I wasn't interested in any kind of dark magic and everything relating to spirits and visits from the ether were tied to dark magic. I just wanted to know if I was going to be able to remember anything. I decided to search for books on comatose people and their memories instead. After researching for a few hours I could see where Poppy and Minerva got their theories on talking to me. There was a general consensus that touching and communicating with people in comas was soothing. Many of them could even remember specific conversations upon waking, even if they could not remember dreaming. It was more like someone would tell the patient about something that happened while they were out and they would remember hearing about it already. That was more hopeful, but this was more than a dream, or someone reading to me from a newspaper. I was actually living.

Just before I was due to meet Hermione for the trip, my eyes settled on a book with a picture of a Pensieve on it, titled simply _Preserving Your Memories. _I put it on a pile with a few other books I wanted and went to find Hermione. I had an idea, but I would need her to carry it out for me.

I found her waiting for me when I arrived in the Gryffindor common room. She was sipping a cup of coffee and looked incredibly tired, but excited. I playfully dropped a sugar cube in her cup to let her know I was there. It was a mistake though because she started violently and slopped coffee down the front of her smart looking jacket. She was dressed in a Muggle business suit, black with a skirt and blazer. Underneath the jacket she was wearing something dark pink with a bit of lace across the top.

"Ugh, Severus, my new camisole has coffee all over it!" She siphoned the spill off with her wand and smiled anyway.

So the pink thing was a camisole. Even with the coffee on it, I thought she looked quite nice. Professional clothes suited her. I spied the pen and parchment on the table and quickly wrote out an apology. Then I asked her if we had time to run to the library to collect the books I wanted.

"Madam Pince would kill me if she saw me shrinking library books and stuffing them into my suitcase like this," Hermione commented.

_She would kill me too. She was never afraid of me. None of the staff were._

Hermione glanced at my note and raised her eyebrows. "And neither am I."

_You need to be less jumpy. If we are to be travelling through crowds you will have to get used to me doing things to get your attention. I can't carry around parchment everywhere we go._

"I know, I am still a little battle ready, that is all. Maybe we should come up with a signal that is just yours. Something that I would not normally experience." Hermione frowned in thought.

_I could just tug your sleeve. _I reached out and pulled at the cloth hanging free near her wrist being careful not to pass my fingers through her skin.

Her eyes widened at the fabric tightening around her wrist seemingly of its own accord. "That is so _strange, _but perfect. What would hap--, never mind."

I still don't know what she was about to ask for sure, but I imagine it had something to do with touch. I wanted to touch her too, but it was out of curiosity more than anything. I already knew I felt something that one time when she passed through my outstretched arm, but I was not a touchy feely kind of person. I simply was not there yet.

The sleeve trick proved useful. I had to tug on it about hundred times in the airport just to let her know I was there. And about a thousand more on the aeroplane between London and Dubai. I wasn't able to sit near her on that flight, but I was on the flight from Dubai to Brisbane. There was a young man sitting on the other side preventing me from being able to pass notes. He introduced himself as Steve and was intent on flirting with Hermione the whole way. To her incredible credit she politely tried to brush him off, but when he finally asked her to go for a drink when they landed I reached out and yanked on her sleeve hard. The green monster of jealousy reared its ugly head and I was not about to let that handsome young man chat her up anymore.

"Oi!" Hermione yelped as her elbow came free of the armrest.

"Are you all right?" Steve the annoying airplane talker asked.

Hermione gave him a winning smile. "I'm fine, but I think I should really get some rest."

"Sure, sure, how about that drink though? Or, I could at least give you a ride to your hotel. Where was it you said you were staying again?" He was courageous, for even Hermione was looking annoyed now. I reached across her seat and tipped his cocktail right out of his hand and into his lap.

"Oh, I am as clumsy as a duck in a ploughed paddock!" he exclaimed as he got up and shook the ice off of him. Hermione put a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggle. "Excuse me, while I go dry off."

When he was gone she turned to my seat quickly. "That was funny! You weren't jealous were you?" she hissed quietly.

I tugged on her sleeve twice quickly for no. I was a grown man and I should have been ashamed of my behaviour, but I was beginning to feel a little possessive of Hermione. As I looked at her bright brown eyes, my heart started to thunder in my chest.

"Right," she said sarcastically. Then she pulled her blanket up to her neck, kicked back her chair and closed her eyes. I could see the ghost of a smile playing at her lips. When Steve returned he looked disappointed to see Hermione sleeping, or feigning sleep at least. After awhile she really did fall asleep and I was able to study her face without interruption. The dim light from Steve's reading lamp accented the soft curve of her jaw. Her lashes were long and dark where they pooled across her cheek, and her lips were full and supple looking; the perfect kind for kissing. Yes, she was very attractive to me then.

I caught Steve watching her sleep as well, and I hoped I didn't look as hungry as he did, but his look was predatory, mine was not. To him she was a conquest, someone to take home for a night. It made me angry to know he was thinking base thoughts about her. I reached out and tipped his newly refreshed cocktail into his lap again. This time his reaction wasn't quite so cute and he mumbled curse words all the way to the little aeroplane loo. I spent the remainder of the flight staring at the in flight television. Thanks to the subtitles I was at least able to focus on the mindless programme playing. It was some film about a man who impregnated a woman during one night stand and they had to overcome their cultural and familial differences to make it work. I did not plan on getting Hermione up the duff anytime soon, but we were a lot like that couple. Fools rushing in, not really knowing each other at all. There was a happy ending for the on screen couple, but my life was not a movie, and it certainly wasn't a love story.

Hermione and I weren't able to speak again until we were settled into her hotel room. I left her so that she could shower and freshen up and returned an hour later. I knocked quietly on the door and she opened it right away. Sprawled on the bed were several large telephone books each opened to the Ws.

"It feels good to finally be able to talk to you again," she commented before pulling a book back in front of her. She was copying the address for every combination of Monica and Wendell or M and W that she could find in the residential and business listings. I wrote on a separate piece of paper.

_I agree, though it would be nice if I didn't have to write everything down._

She smiled. "I do like your voice."

I was so unused to those kinds of comments that I did not know how to respond. So, I didn't and pulled a phone book in front of me and started plugging through the listings. There were really were not a whole lot of leads once we were through. I pulled out the last book in my pile and opened it up. It was a slimmer listing for the coastal town of Birkdale. Starting with the business listing I found a full colour advertisement for a family dental clinic. There were six faces with names on the page. The last two were promoted as the clinic's newest additions, Drs. Monica and Wendell Wilkins. There were two smiling faces that both matched Hermione's looking out of the page. I had hit pay dirt and we'd only just arrived.

I took the book and placed it directly over the one she was looking through.

"Oh," she breathed tears filling her eyes instantly. "It's them."

She copied the address and phone number down quickly and then tore out the page. Tears leaked unheeded out of her eyes and I shifted uncomfortably. I could not reach out and comfort her so I felt like I should leave. I gathered the paper and pen that had become standard.

_Would you like some privacy?_

She quickly wiped face clean and took few deep breaths to calm herself. "I apologise. I know how you feel about emotional people."

I did too, but she couldn't possibly think that it applied to her, this moment.

_And, how is that exactly?_

"That you don't like them," she admitted quietly. "I've seen crying students go to you, Severus. You have never been good for much more than a handkerchief, and to tell them to stop snivelling."

_You can't possibly think I would apply that to you. I am feeling quite emotional myself for your sake, and feeling quite lucky that I am invisible and you cannot see my disgrace._

I hoped that my ill attempt at humour would cheer her up.

"You don't have to make fun of me," she said, but she laughed a little too.

_What do you want to do now? Do you want to go immediately, or wait?_

"I, I don't know. Now that I know where they are, I am frightened. Maybe we should just go and get it over with," she said. "We can go to the office, I can pretend I am waiting for someone and you can go in and look in on my parents."

_That sounds good. Let's do it._ I admired her no nonsense, get it over with attitude. It is exactly as I would have done.

On the cab ride over Hermione was sullen and focussed on the task ahead. I however, relished every square inch of Brisbane as we drove south along the coast. I had never seen a real palm tree in person having never travelled in my life, and they instantly became my favourite tree. The city was large and thriving and there were signs of life everywhere. The ocean was a crystal blue and I enjoyed myself immensely. I had always wanted to travel, but my duties prevented it. I hoped I had the opportunity to travel again with my body someday. And perhaps a happier Hermione by my side.

When we arrived at the neat white office building in a shopping plaza on Birkdale Road, Hermione was sweating. She paid the driver without saying anything and hopped out of the car with jerky movements. The poor thing was petrified. I wanted to hold her hand. She pulled her jacket tightly around her against the Australian winter chill before moving on. I reached out and gripped the end of her sleeve by her wrist. She looked over at the pinched part of her sleeve and nodded in acknowledgment, but I didn't let go. It was the best I could do.

"Thank you, Severus," she whispered. I tugged on her sleeve a little to get her moving so people didn't think she was daft staring at the office building, talking to herself.

As soon as we were inside she sat in the busy lobby near a children's playroom that housed an enormous aquarium with tropical fish swimming inside. A television was hooked up in the corner playing a cartoon. I released Hermione's sleeve and immediately went on my mission. I was disgusted by all the mouths splayed open and the noises the equipment made. I wouldn't let a dentist near my mouth for a million galleons. Poppy would take care of my teeth; she'd already offered to do it a thousand times. It was in the third cubicle that I recognised Hermione's father, Wendell for all intensive purposes, happily chatting with the young boy he was working on. The kid had a mouth full of metal, but was still laughing around it at Mr. Granger's, no Wilkins', jokes. The older man appeared quite happy. He was fit and tanned and seemed to be enjoying himself. I came across Hermione's mother from the back. She was inspecting the x-rays of some poor soul's mouth, but I recognized that hair anywhere. Hermione's mother appeared just as fit as her husband from behind, but when she turned around I was in for a shock. I didn't know how I was going to break this news to Hermione, but Monica Wilkins was smiling fondly at a colleague who had just walked in with more pictures whilst running a hand protectively over a very swollen belly.

I rushed out of the work area and back into the lobby. Hermione sat in the same position I left her in looking towards the practise area apprehensively. I reached down and gripped both her sleeves pulling her up and out the door. There were people everywhere, and nowhere would we really be able to talk. I dragged her a few blocks ignoring her exclamations to stop until I spotted a more deserted alleyway. We went behind a Baltic restaurant where I was finally able to dig into her handbag for paper and a pen.

"What is the matter, Severus? Did you see them?" Hermione asked worry filling her tone.

_Yes. _ I knew what I was about to tell her was going to break her heart, but I could not put if off.

_Hermione, your mother is pregnant. Quite far along from what I could tell, too. _

Hermione gasped and leant against the wall for support. "You're sure?"

_Quite sure._

"I can't restore their memories now! What would that do to them when they are expecting a child and everything? Oh, Severus, I wish I had never come!" Hermione put her face in her hands and wept. "I've lost my family, Severus. I knew there was a very real possibility I wouldn't be able to restore their memories, but now it is like they've died."

I reached down and pushed her hair out of her face. She looked up at me, her face red and blotchy, but still beautiful.

"I am going to find a phone so I can call a cab. I want to go back to England."

_Are you sure you don't want to see for yourself that they are well and happy? Don't you think that would make you feel better? I understand that you are upset, but you don't want behave rashly either. _

In the end, Hermione agreed to go to the hotel and take a nap before she made any decisions. She was still exhausted from travel and I was exhausted mentally. While she was sleeping I took the time to empty my mind and relax as much as possible as well. I was unable to however, so I left to go wander around the nearest boardwalk and think. I wasn't sure how I was going to help Hermione get through this. I was of the personal opinion that she should leave her parents alone and cut her losses. But I was different than her, I was not easily attached to people and was far more used to saying goodbye. The only person I ever held onto was Lily. My own mother was dear to me, but I also thought she was despicable for letting my drunken father snap her wand and use her as his personal punching bag. Hermione at least deserved my honesty, and if she asked my opinion I would give it to her. If she thought she wanted to be with me then she needed to get used to my approach right now.

I didn't even think when I re-entered the room and was shocked to see Hermione standing in front of the mirror with nothing but a towel on. Her hair was pulled up off of her neck and she was rubbing some lotion on her shoulders. It was the most erotic thing I had ever seen. I had had sex before, sure, but I had never been intimate with anyone before and this woman before me was moving me in ways I never imagined. I felt a burning in my lower body that even my ghostly form was not immune too. I was lusting for her.

I suddenly felt dirty, like a cheap voyeur and turned around and floated back out the door. I waited a few moments to collect my bearings, trying to wipe the image of her creamy skin and toned legs out of my mind, but it was impossible. I don't know how many minutes passed, but it felt like an eternity before I was able to lift a hand and tap lightly on the door a few times.

"Severus?" she whispered through the wood.

I knocked once in response. She threw open the door and closed it when she saw me pick up a pillow and move it. She was clothed again in her pyjamas, which thankfully covered her whole body. Her hands, feet, and head were the only parts exposed, but in my current state even that was enough to send my mind down a sinful path.

"I called for you, but you didn't respond so I figured you were gone," she said conversationally. She seemed much recovered from earlier. "I took a bath."

Good great Merlin and all his ancestors, I could picture her in that bath.

"I also ordered room service. I don't much feel like going out again tonight. I am tired."

I dragged some paper towards me. _I understand. Have you decided what you are going to do?_

"No. A part of me wants to see them, but the other part of me is afraid that would hurt too much. When I modified their memories I made sure their lives were still fulfilling. The only thing that was really missing was me. I suppose they found a way around that on their own. I managed to make them forget they had a daughter, but I didn't make them forget they ever wanted a child in the first place. I just can't break up their family again, I just can't." She started to weep again. This time she controlled herself quickly and wiped her eyes.

"I am so sorry I keep crying," she said sadly.

_Don't be. Please._

"What would you do, Severus?" It certainly didn't take her long to ask.

_I would try to move on. It is a terrible sacrifice for you, but if they weren't here, happy and starting a new family, then they would be dead by now. _

Hermione set her features into determined lines. Her face was grim. "You are absolutely right. I may try to come back to find them again some time, but I am done for now."

I was immensely proud of her; my earlier lustful thoughts were replaced with more friendly companionable feelings. We passed another hour in silence while she ate. I read through a couple of the books I had asked her to bring, but nothing was in them that was of any use to me at the current moment. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Hermione watching the pages slowly turn. I was relaxing on one side of the bed. She got up from the little table she was sitting at and stretched out on her side right next to me. There was barely a foot between us and her pyjama top had ridden up exposing a strip of smooth flesh on her stomach. My earlier lustful thoughts returned with a vengeance. I snapped my book shut and rested it on my lap.

"I can see where you are sitting. The blankets are slightly rumpled. I can picture you leaning on the headboard with your legs stretched out before you, ending right about here." She tapped the place where my foot indeed was with her toe. I of course could not see the rumpled blanket, only my own body, and the same dragon skin boots I had worn for years.

"How is it that you can be here, so real to me, but not really here at all?" I know it was meant to be a rhetorical question, but I lifted the paper and responded anyway.

_The books aren't giving me any answers._

"I didn't expect them too. Books don't hold the answers to everything," she said taking the book I held from me.

I pulled it back so I could have a writing surface. _That is an interesting statement coming from you._

Her brows knitted together and I thought she was going to respond back with something insulting, but she didn't. "I am learning, Severus, slowly, but surely."

I didn't respond. I sat there quietly watching her, drumming my fingers on the book.

"You said in your letter, that you should be able to do just about anything you want if you want to badly enough," she said. I tapped once on the book with the pen to signify yes. "And you can touch Crookshanks, don't you think you could touch me if you wanted to."

_I don't know. I could not touch my own body, I only know I can touch your hair, and inanimate objects, and your cat._

"Do you even want to touch me?" she asked boldly.

_It seems a bit soon in our friendship for that, don't you think?_

"Maybe for you, but I have been imagining it for over two years."

I sucked in a breath. I could only imagine what she imagined. I turned on my side so that I was facing her and I placed the book in between us.

"I can tell that you just moved onto your side."

_Yes, _I wrote. _You are beautiful._

She smiled and placed her head on the pillow, but her eyes rested on the words."So are you."

_Hermione, _I waited for her to respond before I wrote more. _Will you preserve the memories of the time you spend with me, so that I can look at them later if I need to?_

"Of course," she whispered tenderly. "Will you do something for me?"

I tapped once on the book.

"Will you stay with me tonight?"

_Of course._

She smiled sweetly and closed her eyes, within minutes she fell asleep, and despite myself, I fell in love. It only took a week.

* * *

**A/N: I hope you guys don't think this is moving too fast. The story can't go on forever though, can it? It is already going to be long enough after all. We still have months of him being a spirit left to go through and we still don't know what is going to happen if he wakes, right? Thanks for all the inspiring reviews!**


	11. Coward Conscience, How it Afflicts Me

Usual Disclaimers Apply

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 11

O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me!

We ended up leaving Australia two days after that night I spent with Hermione. I sat beside her watching her sleep for a few hours thinking of all the reasons I was falling for her, then I spent the next few tallying the reasons why that was wrong and impossible. By morning I had myself convinced that I made a mistake and was in a particularly querulous mood. It was typical of me, to find something promising and then rip it to pieces to find that one little loophole that would make it all far apart. Even if the statistical chances of it happening were about as good as a hippogriff landing on the moon and then making it on the Muggle news. I would always abandon the undertaking for the safe guarantee; no risk at all. I invariably preferred no change to a risky change. Even at the cost of my own happiness. The only risks I took were for the good of Wizard kind. I said _could _never leave Hermione, but that does not mean I _wouldn't_. I didn't feel like I could kill Dumbledore, but I did because it was the right thing to do, although that is debatable. Some say it was a mercy killing because he was dying already, including the man himself, but I would have preferred letting nature, and the curse take their course. Even if it meant that the Unbreakable Vow killed me first, but we could have used more time.

I was good at being a spy, and lying. I could lie to just about everyone with relative ease, but I wasn't sure how I was going to lie to Hermione. When the moment came when I had to finally end Albus' long and fruitful life he knew I was faltering. Through the wonder that is Legilimency he read my emotions and reticence like a large print book in front of a magnifying class. What about my soul, Albus? On the outside was a brick wall, strong and irrefragable, but on the inside the mortar holding the pieces of me together was crumbling to sand. Albus was begging me to end it quickly with his mind, but still I hesitated. In the end it was what he called me that enabled me to turn my grief and anguish into the putrid burning hatred required to perform the Killing Curse. Coward. Not ten minutes later just before using my own slashing hex on me, Potter called me a coward as well. I wanted to kill him, too. Later that night when I was heaving my guts out, and weeping hot acidic tears that burned my skin, all I could think about was how right they were. I have been told that my years of espionage were incredibly courageous, but I beg to differ, they were merely penance for when I was sixteen and I was too much of an invertebrate to say 'No thanks, Tom Riddle, not interested.' What does all this have to do with not being able to lie to Hermione? It was another opportunity to demonstrate my cowardice.

I decided not tell her and to just disappear. If I woke remembering her, I would pretend I didn't. If she offered me memories to remind me, I would refuse to look. It didn't matter that her loveliness burned brighter than sunshine and warmed me from the inside out, I was far too used to being cold and I didn't like change, distractions, or the unknown. Fortunately for me, Hermione was still brooding over her parents. She was no longer weepy, which I did not think I could bear anymore of, but she was sullen and quieter than normal. It allowed me to not write her as much as usual, leaving me freedom to ruminate over how I was going to get away. We ended up spending that last day before the flight going to her parents' home. It was a quaint beach bungalow that I would have loved and I thought that Hermione might have done them a favour sending them where they were. She disillusioned a Muggle camera so that I could snap a couple photographs of them. 'To remind me that they're happy,' she'd said. I could understand needing at least a picture; after all, I had stolen one myself once. I managed to get a few of them sitting at their kitchen table, eating, talking, and laughing. They talked mostly of the baby, a boy that they planned to name Cleomenes from Shakespeare's _Winter's Tale_. I immediately understood how Hermione got her name, and I felt for the boy for being saddled with such a heavy moniker. If they preferred that play so much, they could have at least picked something a touch more arbitrary, like Dion. It would provoke far fewer questions and I was speaking from experience. Kids used to ask me if I was named by a snake because of my name's sibilance. I hated it then, I kind of like it now. I didn't tell Hermione any of that, though. I thought it might be too much for her to handle at the moment.

Now here is when my cowardice really hit its stride. Hermione had just lost her entire family. She was an only child, she had one cousin who didn't know she was a witch and lived in America, and now she was basically an orphan. She needed me to be strong for her, but I was too damn worried that being there for her would make her want me even more, and in return I wouldn't have the strength to leave. I made it to just before the flight before I really started to pull away. We were in the hotel room and she was packing up the few belongings she'd brought when I suggested she fly back on her own.

"You're awfully quiet, lately," she commented.

_I have no other option, _I responded.

She rolled her eyes. "Duh, Severus."

It was clear she was in a bit of a mad mood herself. That made things easier.

_What are you going to do on the flight back?_

She shrugged her shoulders as she shrunk my last book and shoved it in her bag. "There is not a whole lot to do. I will probably read, maybe watch the in flight movie. Why do you ask?"

_I was wondering if you would be bothered if I opted out of the flight. _I was such an imbecile. What kind of man abandons a distraught woman right before an around the world flight just because he might be falling in loving with her? Me, that's who. Coward thy name is Severus Snape. What's worse is that my conscience hadn't even turned on yet. If it had I wouldn't have gone away like that because she looked crushed. I was cruel enough to believe that I was doing her a service, lose her parents and me in one blow; force her to get over everything at once. A line from an old Rolling Stones song rang through my head; _I look inside in myself and see my heart is painted black._

"If I was bothered would you take the plane?" she asked, but there was more than a touch of annoyance in her voice.

I started to write out a response, but she held up a hand and interrupted. "Never mind. I am not going to make you do something you don't want to do."

_I asked if you were okay with it, didn't I? _

"Obviously you don't want to, or you wouldn't have." She zipped the bag closed with unnecessary force. I had to give her points; she was getting angry rather than emotional. Even when we were fighting she made me want to be with her. I suppose that's why she won in the end. "I don't need you there. I can't talk to you anyway."

The truth hurts. My one strength during my time as a soul without a body was that I was invisible and couldn't be heard. It was also my greatest weakness; my life was a series of contradictions. I loved Hermione, but I couldn't be with her, I was a hero, but a coward, I wanted to care, but my conscience had gone on a holiday, one gets the picture.

_I see._

Somehow I had gone from it being my problem to making it appear that she was the one being unimpassioned. That was always a talent of mine, twisting people's words around. It got me far in my spy days. If I managed to get her to say goodbye to me rather than the other way around, not only would I have spared myself from hurting her, but I would immortalise myself as the biggest git in England. That kind of behaviour was consistent with the old me, and I liked it. I needed to know that falling for Hermione hadn't made me completely soft. In hindsight, I can see that she was a scapegoat for my horrible disposition. I didn't have Death Eaters or students to attack so I chose her, the one person I should have been seeking comfort from. She was the _only_ person I could get comfort from, but as the say old habits die very, very hard.

"I didn't mean it like that. Don't turn this around on me, you are the one who clearly has a problem," she wasn't allowing me to twist her words. Smart.

_How on earth do you gather that from what little bit we have said today?_

"Because we have only said a little bit, that's how. You realise that I can sense your presence and you are tense. If you want to leave rather than talk about it, then go. You don't have to explain yourself to me." Hermione sat on the bed and folded her arms across her chest.

_You're right. I don't. _

I could have just told her that facing a twenty-five hour flight was worse than torture, but I would be an arse hole for making her go it alone for that reason too. My conscience was slowly starting to kick in, but not enough to take any of the things I was about to say back.

"I don't want to make you do anything you want to do, Severus. I am sure having to deal with my constant crying has been more than you can take right now, and I understand. I am usually not this emotional and I hope you will forgive me for it someday. You have spent too many years being told what to do. Please don't expect me to do the same thing," she said quietly. She managed to completely turn the argument around on me. I wasn't experienced in arguing with women over seemingly trivial things like travelling together, but she presented a challenge. I wanted her.

After that, all the snivelling about being a coward and having no conscience went right out the window. I had no more resolve left to try to leave her again. Permanently that is, I still didn't want to ride in that damn plane, and I still wanted to get away to sort through my thoughts. Now I was angry all over again, but this time with myself. I was sick to death of being inconsistent and not being able to make up my mind.

_If I didn't want to do something you asked me to do, I wouldn't._

She sighed deeply, clearly frustrated with me. "I know that. I said I wasn't going to _tell_ you to do anything, and I am not going to ask you to ride back with me because you would not have brought it up if you wanted to. End of story."

_Do _you want _me to go with you? _I wrote emphasising want and you with a flourish.

She directed her glare at the words, which had sort of become her way of looking at me, and replied. "No. I am fine. It is time for me to go so I will talk to you again soon."

She sounded very convincing. I admit that I was acting like a complete fool at the time, but I couldn't let her know that she had me wrapped around her little finger. I couldn't take her into my arms and kiss her forehead and put my nose in her hair, and whisper that everything was going to be all right, that she was going to be all right.

_Then it is settled. I will see you back in England. _I put down the pen and the paper with an exaggerated gesture.

"Bye," she said emotionlessly.

Technically I won that argument because I _wanted _her to tell me to leave, but it did not feel like it so I didn't leave completely. I mentioned that my conscience was slowly arriving by then. I went just outside the door to see if she would try calling me back, but she knew that I was gone, otherwise she wouldn't have broken into tears and sobbed until the cab picked up her like she did. I could have played git for England at the world cup and the other team would have just forfeited because no one could beat me. I ended up taking the flight with her anyway. I just didn't let her know that I was there watching her.

When we got back to England I did leave her alone, but not before I saw her safely back to Grimmauld Place. Ron was in better spirits when she returned and Harry acted as if he hadn't seen her in ages. Things were going back to normal for those three and I was happy. She already decided to tell them that she found her parents on her own and saw them with her own eyes, so I left her to tell them the story so that she could get comfort from those who could hold her. When she cried in their arms I wondered if any of those tears would still be for me.

I needed to do something, or go someplace that would give me some perspective. I made up my mind to write her an apology for my cad-like behaviour, but before I did I needed to spend a little time doing some soul searching. If I wanted to make any attempt at being better for her I would have to learn a little more about myself, and more importantly, I was going to have to learn to like who that person was.

I was avoiding going to see Lucius Malfoy because he was in the one place I feared worse than life alone, or death. Azkaban. Imprisonment would drive me to suicide, of that I have no doubt. Many do not survive long in Azkaban in the first place, but I was out of my body. As far as I knew it was not a spirit of me, per se, that was walking around, but my actual _soul_. If that was true then the Dementor's could devour me within seconds of coming near them. All they would have to do is inhale and I would become nutrition for a rotting corpse with a cloak. I shuddered at the thought. If only I had wand abilities, my Patronus would save the day. I had a particularly nice memory of Regulus and me playing Quidditch with Lucius Malfoy and a few other older boys. We were just flying and throwing the quaffle, and laughing. I was thirteen and it was the first time I felt accepted by a group of my peers. Dumbledore believed that it was Lily I thought about simply because my Patronus was always a doe, but I only thought about her the first time I produced it and that is probably why it came out that way. We learned the charm together and since I never really fell out of love with her, it never changed.

I risked going to Azkaban anyway. It was midday and there would be more visitors during that time which meant more Patronuses to keep the Dementors at bay. I needn't have worried too much. Apparently the Dementors were not in charge of the prison anymore. The few that were there were only present in the highest security wards. I mentally made a note to ask Hermione about the Dementors along with what Potter knew about Regulus, if she would ever speak to me again that is. Lucius Malfoy was in a low security ward and I imagine it cost him a pretty Knut for that particular prison suite. He was probably financing the rebuilding efforts from the war singlehandedly.

I picked a decent time to arrive too because Draco was in the process of visiting his father when I finally found him. The prison was everything I imagined it to be. Dark and damp, and if I could feel and smell I imagined I would be cold and choking on the acrid stench of human waste and bodies putrefying from the inside out. The long visitor's room was made entirely of stone, the only ventilation coming from two round windows near the top of the twenty foot walls. There were rivulets of water streaming down from the windows staining the walls a dark green. I could imagine the brackish scent of saltwater wafting through the small windows on particularly stormy days.

I hovered over Draco and Lucius in the middle of their conversation.

"—making me use Muggle tools to do the work," Draco was saying grumpily.

Lucius' face was heavily lined and his hair was hanging limp to his shoulders around his face. It was incredibly disconcerting to see him so despondent. Privation was a word that I never thought I would apply to Lucius Malfoy, but he was definitely lacking something that day.

"Don't complain Draco, you could be in here with me," Lucius said and even his voice was weaker than I remembered.

Draco shrugged noncommittally and stared at a point over Lucius' left shoulder.

"Draco, how is your mother?" Lucius asked a touch of desperation in his voice. He put his elbows on the dingy table and held out his hands palms up as if waiting for a handout.

This time Draco looked into his father's eyes. At the mention of his mother something changed in his expression. It was tenderness. "She misses you, Father."

Lucius let out a long shaky breath and brought his hands up to his face. He rubbed his eyes and when he brought them away I could see they were slightly red rimmed.

Minerva always asked me how I could stand maintaining my friendship with the Malfoys after all of Lucius' bad decisions. She never once saw through his donations and very public acts of kindness and always believed him to be the Death Eater he was. Lucius' two vices were vanity and greed. He certainly practiced the rest of the Deadly sins on a regular basis, but those were his favourites. He liked to see his picture in the paper, he liked power and influence, and he loved his money. He loved those things so much, that even if he wasn't brought up to be prejudiced, Voldemort would have had him at hello. Tom Riddle used to be a handsome man who threw lavish parties and stood on his soapbox proclaiming how his vision was going to make the world a better place. Lucius was easily duped. We all were. He promised us money, women, and power. I wanted it too, so I do not set myself apart from Lucius in that regard. However, out of all the things that Voldemort offered, there was something that Lucius already had that the Dark Lord couldn't give him if he wanted to. Narcissa.

Narcissa was beyond a doubt one of the most traditionally beautiful women around. She was more beautiful than her sister Andromeda and only a shade less so than Bellatrix before she lost her mind. Those three sisters, if they had remained a united trio, could have owned the world if they wanted to. Narcissa had teenage boys lusting after her when she was only eleven years old setting foot inside the castle for the first time, but she fell in love with Lucius Malfoy upon first sight. It was a prudent match by all means, uniting two Pureblood families in that way, but I think Lucius would have fallen head over heels if she was a Muggle, and I believe the same about Narcissa. Narcissa understood and loved Lucius enough to sacrifice some of her pride for him. She was raised from the same stock and never once questioned his fixation with Pureblood supremacist ideals, even if she did disagree with it at times. Their only argument was when and how much to involve Draco in the process. Voldemort made that decision for Draco himself by threatening to kill his mother if the boy did not kill Dumbledore. Narcissa risked everything to come and speak to me the day I made the Unbreakable Vow to protect Draco during his mission. The point is they were the best example of a loving family I ever had. That is why I put up with them, and they welcomed me.

Draco made it clear to me that it was his father and mother he was protecting during that time. He avoided me and denied my help partly because I was taking advantage of his father being in prison to rise in Voldemort's ranks, but mainly because I wasn't his father. He wanted his help not mine, he loved, trusted, and hero-worshipped his father in ways that I could never imagine doing with my own. I was jealous of that relationship and that is one of the reasons why I favoured Draco a little more than the other Slytherins. He is my godson and a surprisingly funny and intelligent boy. I was eager to see what kind of young man he could grow up to be. By looking at him I could tell that he had a long way to go before he truly understood the mistakes he'd made by following in his father's footsteps, but standing there witnessing their private moment reaffirmed the one thing that attracted me to the family in the first place. They were loyal and loved each other, and after everything, Lucius Malfoy was sitting in a prison holding his son's hand in a dank room and shedding a tear because he loved his wife of over twenty years and could not be with her. I imagined Narcissa back at their mansion gazing at a portrait of Lucius doing the same thing.

I was not at all surprised to learn that Narcissa betrayed Voldemort. Her son was the world to her, so was her husband and the last couple of years taught her that the only way she would keep them both was to find a way to rid their home of Voldemort. She was a true matriarch, aristocratic and powerful, but insidious and her timing was well played. Her move would not have been more powerful if she had rode onto the battlefield on a unicorn, dressed in the armour of a gladiator and drove a sword through Voldemort's heart herself. She preserved Potter's mission and unwittingly did what I could not. She enabled him to fight that last fight. I would never be able to thank her enough.

I did not remain in the prison any longer after that. Hermione's request that I spend less time eavesdropping on her was carrying over into the rest of my day to day activities. I felt like an intruder, unseen, harmless, but no less invasive by being there just to observe them. I could not help but wonder if I was going to have a happy reunion with the Malfoys when I woke. It would be tentative no doubt, but certainly they did not harbour any ill-will towards me for being a blood traitor. I hoped.

The one caveat to renewing my friendship with the Malfoys would be Hermione. Establishing a public relationship with her would be a wedge between me and them, and adding romance to the mix would drive it solidly in place. My ideals were telling me that I should not even want their approval, but the loneliness for a family that welcomed me made it difficult to discard the notion altogether. I wanted to begin anew, but there were some parts of my past that I wanted to retain.

I felt relieved when I was far away from the prison and back in my room at St. Mungo's. I was almost ready to establish communication with Hermione again, but first I just wanted to relax and zone out for a lack of better terms. I did not want to empty my mind, I merely wanted to let all the confusion and thoughts from the last few days swim around until they formed something coherent I could deposit in my bank of useful information and lessons that I have learned. The most important thing I filed away from that week was that love was love and it manifested itself everywhere. Love truly knew no evil, or good for that matter, and I was finished waffling where Hermione was concerned. I was prepared to play the Devil's advocate and point out the many obstacles in our way, but that would be for her benefit, so that she knew what she was getting herself into. I was counting on her to be absolutely sure in her affection for me just in case I needed her to remind me someday. If I woke up not remembering a thing, I would still fall in love with her, but she would never pursue me if I spent time in the interim driving her away. She could be just as stubborn as I, after all.

The next day I wandered around London mentally preparing what I was going to write for Hermione. I would have to choose my words carefully in case she was still angry and I wanted no hint of sarcasm or defensiveness to show anywhere in my words. Without having my physical expression to rely on I had to make sure my words were direct, but kind. I was talented at the former, but not so much at the latter. I ended up in front of the Leaky Cauldron as was my habit, for it was atypical of me to even be in London without the sole purpose of visiting the Wizarding district on my agenda. I could tell the air was muggy and there was a cloud cover signalling an impending rainstorm. It was my perfect kind of weather for an outdoor stroll. There were several young Hogwarts students milling about carrying robes and books and it dawned on me that it was the first weekend of August. Term was less than four weeks away, and I had months left before I woke. I needed to find a way to reunite myself with my body, even if it was through pure strength of will. I was given six months, but Dumbledore said that I could have whatever I wanted if I wanted it badly enough. I was almost ready, six months was far too long. I wanted to join the throng of early shoppers to replenish potions ingredients, to purchase books that held ideas for new lessons, and otherwise enjoy the atmosphere of impending academia in the air.

It also occurred to me, perhaps belatedly, that the student body at Hogwarts was going to be much larger than usual. Not only would the regular classes be repeating a year, but there was going to be twice the number of first years since the ones who were denied entrance the previous year would be joining the school. I puzzled over what cover story Minerva concocted to convince parents to send their Muggle born children to the school after all. For the next seven years most of the students were going to be a solid year older than they would normally be for their grade level. It was going to make an interesting dynamic having most students come of age in their fifth year rather than their sixth.

Diagon Alley was much restored to its original glory. The addition of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes was the only thing that kept the area really thriving during the war and it was no less impressive with the rest of the alley open. Even Ollivander's was in full operation and young children were coming out swishing brand new wands sending sparks in the air. Someone had reopened Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlour and a small boy of about three was happily slurping on a large scoop of strawberry ice cream. He could not keep up with its melting in the heat and he wasn't holding the cone perfectly upright, so I stepped in and used one finger to push the treat back on the cone before it could fall. He was completely oblivious to my efforts and went on happily licking away. I don't think I have ever done anything so benignly nice in my whole life.

I made a turn down Knockturn Alley and was unsurprised to see most of those businesses shut down. Borgin and Burkes remained open and I knew I would go in there again someday, but I was tempted to campaign to have the Vanishing Cabinet destroyed permanently, or just find a way to do it myself. It would take more than just destroying the cabinet itself. There was a portal inside that could be exposed and it would have to be dismantled first, therefore I would need magic.

I went back through Diagon Alley and on a whim entered the Weasley's store. The first thing I saw when I wafted through the front entrance was a large picture of Fred Weasley smiling down from a high point on the wall. The caption read, Founder Fred Weasley 1978-1998. It was sad actually. The shop was really brilliant. The Weasley twins were geniuses in their own right and I was finally confronted with the evidence that they actually did listen in my classes. Only a very skilled potioneer and charms master could concoct some of the things they did without ill side effects. I was very pleased to see Hermione and Ginny in the shop. They were chatting with the Patil twins and seemed happy. Parvati looked slightly depressed and I assumed it was because her best friend was lost to the war. Hermione appeared a touch melancholy as well, and I supposed that could be partly attributed to me along with her parents.

I debated momentarily about getting her attention, but I did not want to alarm her in front of her friends. I decided that I wanted to talk to her more than I cared about startling her so I did something I had not tried yet. Concentrating with all my might I reached for her and brushed her hand with mine. I made contact, not a solid contact, but I felt the gentlest of touches and my hand did not sink through her skin. I may as well have hit her with a stinging hex, however, because she jumped about a mile in the air. When she landed I tugged on her sleeve.

"Hermione! Are you all right?" Ginny asked laughing.

Hermione rubbed the hand I touched. "I'm fine, just got bit by something."

Ginny just nodded. "Could be any number of things in this place."

Hermione continued to rub at her hand. "I am going to run over to the Apothecary to get something for the sting. I'll meet you and the boys at Quality Quidditch Supplies."

Once we were outside, she hissed under breath without moving her lips. "Severus?"

I tugged once on her sleeve.

"What was that?" she asked quietly as she walked.

I tugged three times for' I don't know,' I was just as shocked as she.

We were in sight of the Quidditch shop and I could see Harry and Ron standing outside, Harry holding a shiny new broom. I remembered that his Firebolt got destroyed the day he left the Dursley's for good. He had bad luck with brooms.

"Severus," Hermione whispered. I tugged to let her know I was still with her. "Meet me in my room at Grimmauld Place at ten tonight."

I tugged once more to let her know I agreed and I let my fingers brush over her hand again. She gasped once more. By that time we had caught up with Ron and Harry and I left. I was slightly jealous that they were young and buying Quidditch equipment, and spending the day with the woman I loved. I wanted to do all those things.

Since I knew that Hermione was busy about town I went over to Grimmauld Place to steal some paper and a pen. I dug through the library's desk until I found some carefully avoiding Hermione's room. I knew that Kreacher's private area was in the kitchens so I went up to the attic to write the letter I wanted to give to Hermione. I would not be able to do it at the hospital or travel with it, so I was sure Hermione would forgive me for being there as long as I stayed in the attic and did not eavesdrop. I was sure no one would go in there anyway.

I was greeted by Hermione's fat cat not too long after I arrived and spent a few moments petting him. I concentrated with all my might on feeling him, but I still did not feel temperature, just the texture. It was different with Hermione. I made contact with her, but it was not significant enough to call touch. There was a marked difference between placing my hand on hers than on a solid object. I began to formulate some theories that I wanted to put into action. As soon as I finished my letter I folded it and stuck it in the rafters and returned to my hospital room.

Unfortunately, the room was full of healers. It appeared to be some group of trainees who were all being lectured by Healer's Smethwyck and Pye about the novelty of my situation. They had little to say beyond that I appeared to be healthy despite being in a coma. I sat and listened to them drone on about my normal brain activity for a couple of hours, but when each student pulled out their wand and started practising diagnostic spells on me, I'd had enough. I abandoned my body and went to Hogwarts.

I went into the Slytherin common room and sat in front of the fireplace. Even if Minerva offered me my old post back, I would not be head of house. I would miss it, but there was too high a likelihood that many Slytherins would feel betrayed by me and attempts to flout my authority would be prolific. It would be nice to be able to simply teach and not babysit as well. I could use some free time and maybe in the future I could have the post back.

I snuck up to the Headmistress's office and found it deserted. I rifled through the files until I found the current year's staff listings. Professor Vector was to be head of Slytherin house. She was a good choice. I was astounded to see my own name listed in two places. Horace Slughorn was slated to teach potions, but my name was placed next to his with a question mark. Bill Weasley of all people was marked for Defence, but my name was there with another question mark as well. Did that mean I had a choice if I lived? Or had Minerva not yet decided where she would want me? I imagined Bill Weasley would make a good Defence teacher. He was likeable, talented, and had a strong history in working with dark magic having been a curse breaker and a member of the order. It made sense now that he was married to find a job closer to home. Hagrid was to be head of Gryffindor, for some reason I thought he was a Hufflepuff in his day. It really made no difference considering he was expelled his third year. Hagrid was one of Voldemort's earliest victims for malice.

There was no new teacher for Transfiguration, but Hermione's name was listed as Apprentice next to McGonagall's. My heart swelled with pride for her. It was not easy to get a job in Hogwarts directly after graduation, I would know. She deserved it though, for a million reasons that I didn't. It appeared that Minerva was going to double dip as Transfiguration teacher and Head. She was not the only Apprentice, however, for Neville Longbottom's name was printed next to Pomona Sprout's. That actually made me happy as well. Neville was a menace at potions, but he knew Herbology better than any other student currently in the school. Plus he killed Nagini for me. I was going to buy him a gift for that. Padma Patil and Ernie MacMillan were listed as Head Girl and Boy. If Hermione was not doing an apprenticeship I am sure she would have received the honours. I wasn't surprised to see that Harry was still Quidditch caption and Ron was still a Prefect. It appeared that Minerva was attempting to keep things as normal as possible.

When a couple of minutes before ten rolled around I was practically elated. I had a very real possibility of getting my job back and I was on my way to spend some time with a wonderful woman, if I could convince her to forgive me that is. She did not appear entirely pleased to meet me at Diagon Alley, but that could just be my imagination. I was feeling very hopeful that the night was going to go a long way in understanding each other, and I was eager to get on with it.

* * *

**A/N: Just a note on the story here, I know that JKR describes Draco as a pale pointy faced dweeb, but she does say that Narcissa Malfoy could be a beautiful woman. It is Harry who says that she looks like she has dung under her nose. JKR also makes no bones about Bellatrix being a knock out too so forgive me if I embellished a little on that for the sake of my story. I have mentioned before that if seems a little OOC or AU, then that is because it is supposed to be. If there is something I want to be canonically accurate, I will look it up.**

**Anyway... thanks for all the amazing reviews, they are really helpful and I appreciate them!**

**I don't have a beta, as we all know, but I would like to give a special thanks to Very Small Prophet for pointing out what a spaz I am (my words, not Very Small Prophet's). For all intensive purposes = nonsense, for all intents and purposes = the rest are for all practical purposes. I should have been an English major in college, probably would help me now. If you found my mistake, good for you, if you didn't, pretend you don't know. **


	12. No legacy is so rich as honesty

Usual Disclaimers Apply

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 12

No legacy is so rich as honesty

_Dear Hermione, _

_I cannot imagine there are any words I could offer for how I behaved in Australia. If you believed that I was disconcerted by your ennui, then you are correct, but please rest assured it was not because I did not want to comfort you. On the contrary, I was frightened by how close I wanted to be with you and I was unable to resist the urge to harden my heart. It is a tireless defence mechanism of mine to avoid relationships, therefore complications, and the ensuing anger and regret that typically follows. You were already upset and I selfishly figured that if you were left to mourn the loss of your parents and myself at once you would recover faster. I am not disillusioned enough to believe that losing me in any way compares to losing your parents, but I had myself convinced that I was protecting you. I only know that if the situation had been reversed, the outcome for me would have been grievously felt. _

_I will not list the doubts that entered my mind when I seriously pondered pursuing any kind of connection with you, be it romantic or otherwise, but do understand that I will not hesitate to bring those points up in order for you to completely understand how far I have to go before I will be good for you. Trust that if I did not have the bittersweet gift of continued invisibility and silence, I would be less eager to share these thoughts with you. Hermione, you are getting to know _me._ The man I am on the inside, not the glowering and often cruel potions professor you are familiar with. How you developed and harboured any feelings for that man will always remain a mystery to me. However, it is who I am now, the man behind these words, and not my actions of the past that I endeavour you to remember should I never wake. Forget my face, but remember my spirit, for part of it belongs to you. _

_In closing, I wish to beg for your forgiveness for my behaviour and any similar instances that will no doubt occur in the future. You are in the unfortunate position of having to tolerate me while I navigate the minefield that is a trusting and open relationship. On that note, I must implore you, what do your feelings for me entail? What do you want from me? I do not believe that you have put me on a pedestal out of ill placed hero worship because you are much too practical for that, but it would help me sort out my own feelings if I knew in what capacity you wanted to pursue our relationship. I have never had this sort of conversation with another human being in my life, so forgive me if my approach is less than agreeable. However, it is in my nature to be forthright and I fear that may never change._

_All my best,_

_S.S._

I wanted to give Hermione privacy while she read my letter so when I arrived at Grimmauld Place as requested I merely held it out to her, and then opened her bedroom door.

"Are you leaving?" she'd asked as she stared apprehensively at the letter.

I tapped on the door frame twice.

"Do you wish for me to come find you when I am finished?"

I tapped once.

"Go to the library then, it will be empty."

I ventured to the library and zipped around the room ringing my hands nervously, and action I would not be caught dead performing if were visible, but I was on edge. Was my letter too formal, too kind? Did I reveal too much. I felt exposed and it was for that reason I did not want to see her face when she read it. I did not want to witness any flickering doubt, disapproval, or disappointment that might pass over her otherwise warm and inviting features.

The house was too quiet; not even the distant grumbling of the great Black matriarch could be heard. Perhaps she had been silenced as effectively as Kreacher had been reformed. As if on cue the elf appeared and used his own personal brand of magic to straighten the room up. He took care not to disturb the array of papers sitting the desk and table, which was a time honoured tradition of house elf duties. Never touch the work in progress of any person in the house. I wondered if Hermione knew about that. No doubt she would never leave a parchment loose or a book on the table again taking it as a personal affront that elves were not allowed to clean them up. Only she had the ability to argue that someone should be allowed to do a certain chore whilst simultaneously arguing that they shouldn't be forced to do any chores at all.

Kreacher left and Hermione arrived only moments later. She was carrying a pot of tea on a tray and I could only suppose that she had prepared herself for a long night. I was hopeful.

"Severus," she said to the room without bothering to silence the room, or even close the door.

I pulled parchment from the neat stack on the table and dipped the nearest quill in a bottle of ink. She saw my movements and came to sit at the table near me.

_I am here. Where are your appendages?_

"Ha ha," she replied sarcastically, but then she frowned. "They are at The Burrow for the night so they can test out Harry's new broom."

_Why didn't you go?_

"Mrs. Weasley is sort of upset with me for breaking up with Ron. She's coming round, but not enough for me to feel welcome for very long. It just takes one look from Ron, or a comment that reminds her that I hurt her son, and she gets really abrupt. She did the same thing when she thought that I dumped Harry for Krum back in fourth year. Ron is working on her for me." She did not seem particularly distressed.

_Molly Weasley has always been a bit overprotective of her children._

"I know, I know." Hermione waved a dismissive hand. "Can we talk about your letter?"

Her face had taken on a slightly anxious expression and she pulled her lower lip in between her teeth. I wanted pull the lip out with the pad of my thumb and then put it in between my own teeth. When she released her lip she licked it with one sensual flick of her tongue. If I had my body, biology would have been taking over my brain activity, fortunately I did not and I was able to appreciate her sexuality with a somewhat clear head.

"First of all, you are forgiven for being a prat in Australia, I was not exactly angelic either, you know," she started. "Secondly, I do not blame you for wanting to leave. I asked too much, too soon by seeking out your help in Australia."

_I was glad to help; my only regret is that I could not give you happier news._

"I have had time to reflect, Severus. I miss my parents terribly, but the truth is we had been drifting apart ever since I left for Hogwarts. I rarely saw them and I was hurting them by not coming home. I have always been independent and I have them to thank for that. I was hurt because they loved me and I wanted that back. I was feeling despondent because of the war's devastation and it carried over. In hindsight, I can see that leaving them is the best course of action, and hopefully their new child will be a Muggle and remain at home always, and adore them the way I should have. They are really wonderful people." Hermione's eyes slipped out of focus while she remembered some happy time when her family was whole. "I did the right thing."

_I agree. You are being very strong and sensible._

"And third," she pressed on after a short moment of silence. "I thought you knew how I felt about you already, you were here eavesdropping when I told Harry, remember?"

_I remember, but it does not have quite the same authenticity unless you tell me what you want._

"Do you want to attach some sort of title to our relationship? Do you want to set boundaries of exclusivity? Discuss actual feelings?"

_I do not want to attach any titles, exclusivity is reserved for serious relationships in my opinion, and I am not expecting you to label your feelings, _because I did not want to yet.

"Severus," Hermione said reaching a hand toward the quill, "I wish I could touch you."

She toyed with the quill for a moment and I reached out with my other hand to still hers. I concentrated on feeling her and wrapped my fingers around hers. The sensation was imaginary, but the fact that I could see our enjoined hands made it seem real somehow.

"Do you know what that feels like?" she whispered as she stared at her hand. "It feels like when you are dreaming and someone is touching you, and you can feel, but you can't at the same time. I am aware that you are there even though you are not _really_ touching me."

_That is exactly how I would describe it, _I replied. _What do you want from me, Hermione?_

I searched her eyes understanding how difficult it was for her to have this conversation with paper and thin air. They were full of emotion. I could detect longing and fear.

"Just you, as far as you are willing to go. You have my number all the way to the last possible decimal point. I don't want to imagine waking one day and not being able to talk to you, and hopefully someday see you," she whispered.

I squeezed her hand. _I do not take my commitments lightly, Hermione. I am too old to be fickle in relationships._

She smiled brightly. "You are not old at all. Don't try playing off the age difference as an obstacle because that will be the easiest one to overcome. I am not fickle either. I know what I want. Dating Ron was a mistake; I did that before I found the courage to free myself for you. I would rather be alone than without the one I truly want."

_You will not be alone unless I die. Could you handle that?_

"If I had to," she whispered her whole countenance changing into one of utmost seriousness. "I would not give up the precious moments I have spent getting to know you for _anything. _I would not walk away now just because there is a chance you won't wake, I am in too deep and I must see this to completion. I don't like leaving business unfinished, Severus."

Unfinished business. Isn't that what I had? Supposedly ghosts remain on earth because they won't give up their unfinished business. There was something in this world that they could not let go of, so they remained. That was not possible for me; as soon as Harry beat Voldemort all my earthly business had been completed. Any living I got to do in the future would be a gift and I did not want to make any mistakes. I could not help but notice how careful we were from using actual descriptors of what we felt. I already heard her say she loved me in the corridors of Hogwarts, but she didn't know that. I already knew how I felt for her, but for me it was too soon. I didn't want to tell her I loved her until she could hear the words come from my own lips.

"Severus?" Hermione queried. Apparently I was quiet too long.

_We will see this through, but it will be difficult. You are still a student for one more year, and I am still in a coma. Things will be different if we are actually together. Our future will change when the world can see who we are. I will be the same teacher you always had and I will not be allowed to show any particular regard to you in class. You won't be upset by that will you?_

Hermione grinned again; I could not help but smile back. "I look forward to it. So, are we an 'us' now?

_I thought you did not like labels. _

"I like that one," she replied. "I do have one question though, can I tell someone? Not necessarily about you and me, but that you are here with us and able to communicate?"

_Who? Who would believe you haven't lost your mind?_

"I have proof," she tapped the paper in front of her and then her head. "I have memories and words, and she believes you are here already. I think it would be a good idea for you to have one other person to visit with. I am sure Minerva would be the soul of discretion."

I tapped the quill on the page a few times leaving a black splotch. I really wanted that, and out of all the people who would believe Hermione, Minerva was probably it.

_All right, I will agree to that. Let me know when the arrangements have been made._

"Good." We sat in silence for awhile she lost in her thoughts and I holding her hand. I was reminded of some of the theories regarding my body and sensation that I had not yet tested out. I was about to bring it up when Hermione brought something else to my attention that wiped it out of my mind.

"Viktor is coming to visit the last week before term. He has a Quidditch match here and will be staying for a few days after," Hermione said nervously biting her lip again.

_Is that so? _ I wrote attempting to appear casual. Jealousy blossomed in my gut, however. I knew that she had a history with Krum and having her around Ron was bad enough. Too many boyfriends that had seen her naked were still alive and in her life.

"Yes, I was wondering if you were okay with it, considering our history." She pulled at a thread on her sleeve with her free hand, blushing slightly. I had to fight from saying something completely nasty to her that would display my temper. I was not bloody well okay with it, but what was I to do?

_I would not tell you what to do. _

"I want your opinion, Severus. He is an ex-boyfriend who I suspect still has feelings for me. Ron I would not avoid, but Viktor I can. I am being up front and honest about it. How do you really feel? Please?" she begged.

_I trust you, but not him. _I hoped that was a safe answer. I remembered how he behaved towards her when he was there and if he was her first, then he had a special place in her heart.

"I would like to see him because he is a good friend, but I will do my best to not be alone with him," she compromised.

I was not satisfied. _I cannot guarantee that I will not spy on him. I am a possessive person, Hermione, I am just warning you._

"I think I should be afraid, but coming from you I am touched instead. We have a deal. You should come to the Quidditch match. Do you like Quidditch? I mean I know you go to the games at Hogwarts, but did you even like it?" she asked.

Quidditch reminded me of one the things I had been meaning to ask her.

_I do. I am a Puddlemere fan. Do you?_ I suspected she didn't.

"I am obligated to appreciate the sport because everyone I know is devout."

That actually answered my question better than I thought it would. I would go to the match. It bode well for the future that she would tolerate Quidditch for me. I am sure she had some silly diversion I could return the favour with. Without thinking about it I moved my hand from hers and rubbed her arm. I could see gooseflesh rise in the areas I was attempting to touch. She looked at her arm and smiled wistfully, shivering slightly.

_What do you know about Regulus Black? _ I know it was an abrupt change of subject, but I wanted to know what kind of memory my friend was resting in.

She appeared slightly shocked, but then some piece of information must have clicked into place because her expression shifted to knowing. "You were friends."

_Yes._

"It was Regulus who found the Horcrux hidden inside Voldemort's mother's locket. He discovered Voldemort's secret to immortality and attempted to retrieve the Horcrux he'd discovered in a cave near the sea where Tom Riddle went as a child. Inferi killed Regulus, but Kreacher came back with the Horcrux. Voldemort was none the wiser because Regulus placed a replica in the cave along with the potion he had to drink to retrieve it," she said.

I gasped, _Potion? What potion?_

She frowned, "Based on what Harry told me about it I think it was Suscitatio Nocens Somnium, or the—"

_Waking Nightmares, _I wrote. _Meant to force a person to relive their worst memories in combination with their worst nocturnal counterparts. Leaving the mind in agony and the body parched and weak from dehydration. It was used to torture._

"Yes." She looked at my shaky scrawl with concern. I was trembling from head to foot. I had prepared the potion that my best friend had to drink before he died. Hermione continued hesitantly unable to see me, but sensing my distress. "Anyway, the potion, as you probably already know is a bright green and any vessel that you put the potion in cannot be refilled with water. Harry dipped the goblet Dumbledore used to drink the potion into the water surrounding them and Inferi attacked. We presume that is what happened to Regulus. Harry and Dumbledore retrieved that locket and had just returned to the castle when Draco found him, and well, you know the rest," she finished uncomfortably.

I did know the rest all too well. My insides were turning inside upon themselves and I wanted to flee. I forced myself to remain.

_How did you know? How did you know it was Regulus who found the Horcrux? _

"He put a note inside. I know where Harry keeps it if you want to see it," she said standing up.

_I do. _I was aching throughout my entire being. The mistakes I had made and the sins I had committed compounded on each other until they filled my entire being. I wanted to leave so that she could sense the anguish rolling off me in waves, but I had to see the note. I fought to keep my control while I waited for her to return with it. When she did she held the note out for me to take.

_To the Dark Lord,_

_I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more._

_R.A.B._

I read the note twice before letting it slip through my fingers. Hermione bent down to catch it before it hit the floor.

I was burning with relief, rage, and remorse. The emotions were twisting and turning inside me creating a noxious mixture that spread from my stomach to my extremities. I was bursting with pride that Regulus discovered that secret and I agonised over the fact that I would never know how. I was gratified that he did not abandon me when we both doubted the Dark Lord. He might have even sought my help with the Horcrux, and my heart was breaking over the loss of my friend. He was protecting me. If I had gone with him, I might have died too. But I could have _helped_ him! The rage was coming from the circumstance, the loss of another friend that could have and should have been protected. Hermione of course could not see any of these things, for I was conveniently invisible.

"He is really a hero, you know," she offered. I knew that, better than she did even, and it only made me angrier.

I scrambled for the parchment with fumbling fingers and ripped it in my haste.

_I need to leave._

Hermione looked affronted, terrified, and hurt. "Severus, I'm sorry, but you asked, I didn't know—"

_Please leave me be. I am not angry with you. Thank you for telling me. I must go now. _

I left Hermione immediately. I should not have done it, but it was my turn to grieve and there was nothing she could do to comfort me. She could not hold me anymore than I could hold her. Angry tears spilled down my invisible cheeks as I ghosted through the streets of London upending garbage bins in every deserted street I passed. Lightning illuminated the night and thunder rumbled high in the clouds. The impending storm only marginally as threatening as the storm that was building inside me. I stumbled into a small park and gripped the back of a bench with all my strength. I screamed and screamed incoherent words and curses until it exhausted me. Guilt was penance for my sins. Why was I alive and being given a second chance when so many others were not? What was I to do to prove that I deserved my life back when I couldn't bring back any of the people who deserved to live? I fell to my knees and begged for forgiveness until I finally admitted that there was nothing else I could do. I needed to move on lest I lose my sanity as well. There were people alive who were ready to welcome me back into their folds and that was how I could repay my debts. I would be a teacher, a mentor, a lover, and a friend. All the things that I wanted to be.

"I am not an evil person!" I shouted aloud. "I am not a criminal!" I understood the truth in the words more than I believed them, but it was enough to get me through.

I sat in the park until sometime in the early morning. Heavy rain fell from the sky, obscuring the sun so I lost track of time. I walked in the rain all the way to St. Mungos feeling not one drop. The storm was as short lived as the one in my heart and the burning universe of the sun peaked through the clouds just before I entered the hospital. I walked to my room the traditional way, through corridors and up staircases with the outline of the sun's rays framing Hermione's face in my mind. Somehow it felt like a millennia since I had left her worried and alone at Grimmauld Place. I wanted to see her again, but I was not sure how I was going to beg her forgiveness for leaving twice in a row.

Fate had better plans in store for me because when I glided through the closed door to my room, Hermione was there. She had one of my hands gripped in between hers and she was hunched over resting her forehead on the crook of my elbow. I envied my own body. I moved towards her and put my hand in her hair, gently stroking the curls. She did not get startled this time, just lifted her head a little and leant into my touch.

"Oh, Severus," she murmured without opening her eyes. "I was so frightened for you."

I could not imagine why. She should have been frightened for herself; I was tempted to destroy the library right before her eyes like a poltergeist. I continued to stroke her hair not ready to say anything at all yet. I watched as Hermione rubbed her thumb across my palm tenderly. I don't know what compelled me to do it, but I went to the bedside and placed my ghostly hand inside my own in the exact same position that Hermione was holding it in. I was expecting the typical nothing to happen, but something did. Something enormous that set the precedent for what was to happen in the weeks to come. My hand did not just rest there, it connected with my body. I felt my spirit melding with my body and when I pulled it free in shock there was an unmistakeable severing of flesh from soul. I felt lost and disoriented until I understood the implications of what just happened. I put my hand in again, and this time I felt the pressure of Hermione's fingers. I tried to squeeze her hand, but I did not have any control over my body even though it appeared I was becoming a part of it once more.

"I like being here, Severus. I can see you and touch you. Is that all right? There is paper on the table." She inclined her head in the direction of the table without taking her eyes or hands off of me.

_Yes, it is. Although you may not want to spend too much time here. People will talk. They might get the wrong impression. _

"What, that I am visiting a war hero, or an old professor or friend?" she demanded.

_They might perceive your number and length of visits inappropriate and people talk. There could be a scandal in the papers. I don't want people thinking that I had some influence over you when you were younger. I could lose the chances of getting my job back if the governors get the wrong impression._

Hermione shifted back up and stroked a hand down my cheek. I was touched, figuratively and literally. Both were entirely new and welcome.

"I don't care what they perceive, Severus. The fact is that we are innocent and I want to be here."

_I am happy to hear that, love, but public opinion is formed by perception not fact. We have to be careful. _The endearment flowed from my pen as easily as it did my thoughts. She smiled at it, but I hoped she would not read too much into the common British term. I did not want that to be any sort of proclamation of how I felt for her.

What it did do was convince her that I was right and she backed away from my body. I would have loved for her to stay, but it was not possible.

"There is just one thing I want to do before I go." She stood up and walked to the other side of the bed so that she was on my left. Before I understood what was happening she rolled up my sleeve. I wanted to stop her before she exposed the Dark Mark, but it was gone. There was nothing there but smooth pale skin, the magic holding the mark in place was as gone as the wizard who put it there. Hermione's wide smile reflected how I felt.

"I knew it would disappear."

_It will make tracking down Death Eaters immensely difficult._

"Only you would find the downside to something like this," she said laughing and unperturbed. "Are you all right Severus, about Regulus? You really had me worried."

_I am quite recovered. I did not mean to frighten you, Regulus was a dear friend._

"I was just wondering about the potion, did you brew it?" she asked solemnly.

_Yes, but I would have rather died than brew it if I knew its destiny. _

"I'm sorry, but I don't really know what else to say, nothing seems appropriate." Hermione reached for the paper and pen and took them from me. "Like you said I should go. Meet me at Grimmauld Place."

Nothing much more happened that day or for the next couple of days after. I stayed with Hermione at night and watched her sleep, and visited with her during bits and pieces of the day. She was trying to act as normally as possible around Harry and Ron; therefore I could not take up too much of her time. I whiled away the hours in the Hogwarts library and in my lab. Hermione took me to her parents' home so that she could close it out. She had forged her own name on the deed and had sold the house relatively quickly. I was continually impressed with her cunning. She was more of a Slytherin than some of the actual students in that house, and I was convinced that she was capable of being very cruel. The curse on Marietta Edgecombe was a perfect example of her wrath.

"I should send the money to my parents, but it would raise too many questions," she commented just before depositing the funds in her Gringott's account. I thought of another house that I liked near Hogwarts and wondered if my substantial savings would make a dent in the deposit. The salary at Hogwarts was not extravagant, but I wanted for very little and saved. I also inherited the few galleons from the Prince line that were not left to my mother. I was not set for life if I did not work, but with a job I was more than comfortable. It appeared that Hermione would be equally as fortunate. She was less emotional about disposing of her childhood home than I expected her to be.

When I questioned her about it, she just mentioned that she said goodbye years ago, and that Hogwarts was her home now. I wanted to kiss her lips for feeling the same for the school as I. I also mentioned that I wanted to burn my own home down.

"Really?"

_Yes, really. It has vestiges of Voldemort's and my father's evil in every corner. I just want to be rid of it and start afresh. _

"I'd like to see it first," she'd responded.

_Someday, I replied. _

"If you get rid of your house, where are we going to sneak off to so we can be together after you wake up?" I was more than a little shocked and aroused by the bold innuendo, but I did not rise to the bait.

_Nowhere, while you are a student. And by the time you are not, I will hope to have purchased a new home. _

"You're no fun," she joked, but her smile was saucier than normal. Flirting was something I was not surprised to learn I couldn't really do.

The meeting with McGonagall and Viktor Krum's visit were the only two things of importance coming up before the beginning of term.

I was nervous and irritable the whole morning leading up to the former and I remained as unnecessarily still as possible while I sat in the office and waited for Hermione to explain her case and show Minerva her memories. The old woman's face was pinched with a mixture of hope and consternation while Hermione explained.

"This is not funny, Miss Granger, and I do not possibly understand what would compel you to say such things," Minerva scolded.

Hermione was not deterred. "He is here right now, but before I prove it to you I want you to see these."

She dumped a few memories into the Pensieve and gestured for Minerva to go before her. I had no idea what memories she chose, but all of them could implicate our growing fondness for each other. I hoped Minerva would understand.

When they emerged from the Pensieve, Minerva's face was no longer severe. Her eyes were wet and her hands were shaking.

"This is beyond anything I ever imagined," she murmured. She glanced behind her at the walls full of portraits as if looking for mine. I would not have one, considering my body was alive. There was some debate as to whether I would get a portrait as Headmaster at all, but I would. The castle admitted me into the Head's office therefore accepting my status. Umbridge was not granted that and therefore was never an actual head of the school. She would not get a portrait. Dumbledore was smiling serenely in his usual omniscient way, but the doddering old fool was a welcome sight.

"Do you have the letter I saw?" Minerva asked Hermione. Hermione reached into a leather bound journal and extricated the letter I wrote explaining my situation. Minerva read slowly and by the time she was finished tears were streaming from her eyes. She was crying for me and I was so touched, I cried as well. "I can't believe he's here."

"Show her, Professor Snape." Hermione resorted to titles for the sake of formality.

I gave a quick tug on her sleeve and then accepted the quill and paper she set on the desk before me.

_It is true, Minerva._

Minerva gasped and fell back into her chair. At first I was afraid I gave the poor woman a stroke, but she recovered quickly.

"Severus, oh, it is so wonderful that you are here. I don't even know how to begin to tell you how so—"

I cut her off. _You don't have to say anything, I have already heard._

"Oh," she breathed in realisation that I was there for her visits. "So, it is December? That is so far, we need you back on the staff now. Slughorn is desperate to retire again and Bill Weasley will take whatever post you don't occupy."

_I want potions._

"You will come back? Oh, thank Merlin; I was worried you would not want to. You were a wonderful teacher and I am sure you will be even more so now that you are freed of your extra-curricular duties."

_I sincerely hope that is the case. _Hermione was remaining happily quiet beside me until Minerva turned back on her and wagged a finger at her.

"You realise that your relationship with the professor is highly inappropriate, young lady. And risky."

Hermione looked affronted, but she did not back down. "There is nothing inappropriate about it at all. I am an adult, Professor and well within my capabilities right now."

Good for you, Hermione, I thought. Then Minerva turned her wrath on me.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Severus? Why were you obliged to approach her in the first place?"

I hesitated because I considered not answering honestly, but in the end I did. I was forward about everything else in life, I would have to keep Hermione a secret to enough people, and I did not want Minerva to be one of them. We would need her support.

_Only the deepest gratitude and respect, along with pure boredom compelled me to communicate with her initially. I will not mince words, Minerva, my feelings have grown exponentially, and if I wake, I will take care to keep both our reputations intact. But, as Hermione mentioned, she is at the age of consent by two years now, and is a student under unorthodox conditions. _

Minerva frowned at Hermione. "Why do I have a feeling that you convinced him of these things? I do not see Severus entering in any relationship lightly, least of all with someone so young."

That actually annoyed me, and Hermione opened her mouth to retort, but I yanked on her hair to stop her.

_It is a mutual understanding. Please leave it at that. _And then I added, _Hermione, if you would please step outside for a moment I would like to speak with Minerva alone._

She looked at me in confusion, but agreed and quietly left the room. I wasted no time.

_Rest assured, Minerva, that whatever doubts you may have about the two of us I have already visited at great length. I am beyond my control, I have fallen in love with her, Minerva, so please don't take away the one woman who loves me back. She does not know that I know she loves me, because I heard under less than honourable circumstances, and nor does she know that I love her for I want her to hear the words from my own mouth. _

Minerva nodded her understanding; tears were glistening in her eyes. I knew she had a soft spot for romance novels, and I was living one out for her right under her nose.

_If I am to be allowed back into my old post as Potions professor, I would like to request that my body be transferred to the school's hospital wing. I trust Madame Pomfrey to take care of me if I live, and if I die I want it to be in my home. You may have to take great pains to keep Hermione from sneaking into the hospital wing every chance she gets, but I also want to do this so that she does not attempt to sneak off grounds and visit me at St. Mungo's. With that being said, perhaps you can find a way to allow her to get in every now and then undetected as well._

"Yes, of course." She frowned. "But what if you don't remember any of this?"

_Then I will expect you to help me too. Trust me; I will _want _to remember her._

I was expecting Hermione to question me later that day about our private conversation, but she didn't. It was one of the many things I loved about her.

Preparations were made for the removal of my body from St. Mungo's and into Hogwarts immediately. Minerva had it done quietly so there was no leak in the press and any straggling mail that I was still receiving was forwarded to the school. I don't know if it was due to the magic of the castle, or due to my time to leave impending, but I was compelled to spend more and more time with my body. The first night I stayed in Hogwarts, I lay down on my body to see if it connected like my hand did so many days earlier. It was not quite what I was expecting, or at least not a complete connection, but I did feel the comfort of the bed as I lay on my back, and my limbs had weight to them. I could not move them, but I could feel them.

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**A/N: Rolling right along.... as always please hook me up with some reviews! For every review I get for this chapter I will pay it forward by reading and reviewing your work. If you are not a writer, I will give you all personal shout outs in the next A/N. I am asking for reviews, not just for opinions, support, and improvement, but because they do attract readers to your story and I want people to read my story! There's nothing wrong with that is there? I hope not. I don't know Latin and I am not very creative when it comes to naming things so, sorry if the potion is labelled poorly.**

**Thanks a bunch to all of you!!!!**


	13. Out, out, brief candle!

Usual Disclaimers Apply

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 13

Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow.

"Severus, can't you wear a sheet like a ghost or something so that I can see where you are?" Minerva snapped over her tea and ginger newts in her office. "I don't know what is worse, actually seeing your expressions of disdain, or not seeing you at all."

_Get a sheet then, by all means, _I replied.

"This is serious, Severus, someone has leaked your location to the Daily Prophet and now I am being flooded by owls with owls from disgruntled parents who are still angry with you for how you ran the school last year." Minerva lifted a stack of envelopes and let them cascade back on the desk. I could see the charred remains of several howlers in the rubbish bin.

_I was afraid of this._

"Granted they are not all bad," Minerva stated after a quick glance at my words. "It is not too late for damage control, but rest assured Severus, that your job here is secure. We have already voted."

_I expected no less, really. And Dumbledore's death has nothing to do with it?_

"No, ironically that is the one thing you received full exoneration for. Your memories did that for you and many maintained that there was no solid evidence you did it in the first place. It was Potter's word against basically no one else's, and you never actually confessed to it. Even Albus maintains that you did not kill him." Minerva took a long sip of her tea, and then pulled a bottle of brandy out of a drawer. She dropped a large dollop in her drink, sipped again, and sighed contentedly.

Minerva was a bit of a lush, though no one would ever suspect it. I was amused by the alcohol simply because it was typical of her and she was drinking in her tartan dressing gown and cap. She looked like a Scottish advertisement for plaid. I was discouraged, however, even if my post was preserved, there could be problems.

_Are parents threatening to keep their children home? _

"No, not after already missing a year, and this will all blow over soon. The Carrows are in prison and have given statements that they were planted in the school by You know Who, and the Daily Prophet has agreed to print it in your defence. All of the teachers can testify that although they believed you to be a traitor they did not see you ever once harm a student directly. This could work in your favour, you know," she said.

_How could that possibly be? _

"They will forget all about the fact that you were a kind man who loved Lily and protected her son and remember that you are nothing but a cantankerous old brute. Your ability to instil fear in the students will remain somewhat intact, therefore preserving your hard arse reputation," she said offering me a biscuit before dropping the tin annoyed. "Oh, what am I doing? I can't even bloody see you."

I was ignoring her. My thoughts were on the future and what my reception at Hogwarts might be like. I could tolerate being hated, that was something I was immensely familiar with, but I wanted people to respect me, even it was grudgingly.

"Severus, hello? Are you still here?" Minerva snapped her fingers.

_YES._

"You cannot be taciturn when your companion is not able to ascertain whether you are in the room or not. I don't know how Miss Granger puts up with you," she said as she took a stack of letters and through them in a box. "Go and try to find a way back into your body would you? I suspect you are having way too much fun spying on us all. You'll have enough blackmail to keep us on our toes for years, I imagine."

_Goodbye, Minerva. _I disappeared out of the office happy that at least some people were going to treat me as they always did.

Poppy Pomfrey was busily fussing over my body as she had done every single day since I arrived. She tended to me along with the students last year and was one of the few members of the faculty who suspected I was a spy. She stubbornly refused to allow me to tend to my own injuries when they were brought to her attention over the years. Poppy usually saw right through me the same as Minerva. I had a cordial relationship with her. Ever since I returned to Hogwarts my pillow was constantly fluffed, my clothes changed, and I was bathed regularly. I should be embarrassed about having Poppy see my naked body, but she'd seen it before and took it in stride. In fact, I would wager that she was just as familiar with some of the students' backsides as their mothers were.

I was getting closer to my body physically. I realise that makes little sense, but I was connecting with it on a deeper level when I laid down on it. I had to pull a little harder to get free of it because it was so restful being in it, but free of it I got. I suspected there was going to be a moment when I would lie down and finally stick for good. Term was less than four days away and I still had not found a loophole to the six-month plan. I called out for Death to give it up until my real vocal cords would have been raw and bleeding and lay in my body waiting to be fully united with it, but nothing happened. Not being able to stick to my body was the only thing more distressing than getting booed out of Hogwarts.

I didn't have any plans to visit with Hermione that night because she was with Krum at the Weasley's house for dinner. The Quidditch match had been entertaining for about two minutes and forty seconds, for that is all it took for Viktor to locate and retrieve the snitch. There was a riot in the stands, but Krum just laughed it off as he threw an arm around Harry and Hermione and led them away from the pitch.

"I am very ready for some fun," he said in his thick accent. Fun led them to the Weasley's house and I opted out of going. Even from a distance I was in no mood to watch them fabricate merry making. I had already spent an evening with them at Grimmauld Place and every one of the red heads had to force their smiles and Fred always ended up the topic of discussion. I couldn't stand to see the pained expressions on Molly, Arthur, and George's faces again. It was cheering up I needed, not more misery.

Hermione and I had gotten quite comfortable with each other over the month of August and she was getting more and more relaxed with her movements around me. She would kick off her shoes, and brush her hair. She would come out of the shower in nothing but a towel, and rub lotion on exposed bits of skin all whilst chatting away with me. If my body was whole I would have lost my self-control weeks ago. As it was, I could imagine Poppy going in to change my sheets just to see them tented around my midsection. Wanting Hermione without having to satisfy that sexual urge made me fall in love with her even more. When I did stretch out on the bed with her and put my arms around her it was like heaven. Just having her there was more than I could have hoped for, but not nearly enough.

Grimmauld Place was still empty when I got there so I went straight into the library. I was perusing through a particularly unused section of books when I happened across several volumes that held the kind of magic Voldemort would have been interested in. I was surprised that Potter hadn't cleared that section out, or more likely he did not even know what books the Black family library even held. I am fairly confident the only textbook he ever cracked open happened to be my own. It was incredibly stupid of me to leave some of those spells in that book, and then leave the book in the student cupboard. I rarely made mistakes, but the whereabouts of that book was something I hadn't considered in years. I fancied myself the Half-Blood Prince. I am a half-blood, but I am far removed from the Princes. I wished that I could renounce my connections to that bigoted pure blood side of my family. Not that my father was any better, Muggle or not. My family tree was more like a poisonous cactus with thorns rather than branches. Hermione and I were both alone in the world, it was fitting that we find each other. If I believed in soul mates, she would be it.

My musings were disrupted by raucous laughter coming up the stairs. I slipped out of the library and moved in the direction of Hermione's room almost passing right through Ginny Weasley who was giggling loudly and being chased by Harry. Apparently the party at the Weasley's tonight involved plenty of alcohol. I didn't see Hermione yet though, so went downstairs instead and saw her talking with Krum and Ron. She looked really uncomfortable, but they were making a good show of being good sports though both of them were trying to get Hermione's undivided attention. Unfortunately talking about Quidditch and war wasn't going to garner support for either of them so neither Krum nor Weasley were winning. I went directly behind Hermione and pulled on the collar of her robes and she immediately made a big display about being tired and wanting bed.

Once we were alone and the door was locked and silenced I told Hermione about the news in the evening Prophet.

"I know," she'd replied. "We were talking about it at the Weasley's. I don't think you are going to suffer any real persecution, Severus, but Arthur did say that there is no way they are going to let you teach without a full affidavit of your activities since Voldemort's return. Naturally, they cannot try you again for what happened during the first war twenty years ago."

_I know that, but the world already knows too much about me. _I was feeling raw and exposed.

Hermione seemed exasperated. "It's a trade, Severus. You can't return practically from the dead after being a spy for twenty years and not expect people to ask questions. Admittedly it is going to be hard for you, but you have support and people who care about you."

_Do you think my fears are unfounded? _I was getting angry, I came to her for the first time seeking comfort and she was giving me tough love as if our roles were reversed.

"No, Severus," she said gently. "I just think that it is late and you need a distraction, and I want a bath."

If she was suggesting what I thought she was suggesting, then that was comfort indeed.

_I'm sorry, I arrived unannounced, do you want me to leave?_

"No Severus, I want you to put these on." She pulled a pair of silk gloves out of her nightstand and held them out to me. "I want to see your hands when you touch me. If you are still afraid of having no good reason to return to earth in the morning we can readdress your fears then."

The last woman to make a pass at me that suggestive was getting thirty galleons an hour to do it. It was common for Voldemort to provide, and it was common for us to accept. For many it was pleasure, for me it was maintaining my role, but I was a man after all.

I slipped the gloves over my hands and they fit seamlessly. For me it was just like looking at gloved hands, but for Hermione it was bewildering see my hands outlined by the dark grey material.

"How can you do that?" She reached out to touch the glove, but it yielded as if my hand was not even in it.

_I used to have to concentrate on wanting to feel the object I want to touch, but now I can pretty much use my hands freely._

"Can you take off my robes?" Hermione asked shyly.

I reached forward and unhooked the first of the three buttons on her summery cloak. She sucked in a breath. I realised that we were about to get as close to making love as I would ever get in this form and I began to feel as nervous as she seemed. When I undid the last button I pushed the cloak gently off her shoulders and let it float down to the floor. It pooled in a succulent puddle of periwinkle blue around her ankles. Her shoulders were bare underneath the robe and I ran my hands down her arms. She shivered slightly, but did not take her eyes off my hands. I stopped.

"Don't stop," she breathed. "Touch me how you would if you could really feel me. Take my clothes off, Severus."

I slowly took off each article of clothing, taking care to caress every square inch of her skin. When she was down to her bra and panties she led me to her en suite bathroom and filled the tub. I had no idea what to think, it was killing me that every touch was insubstantial, a charade. Was it fair to let her become naked when I remained hidden? No, it was not, and I was too much of a gentleman to let it continue. I disappeared and reappeared in the bathroom with paper.

_I can't go further, Hermione. I only want to do this when we can do it properly. You're beautiful and I want to see you, but only when I can reciprocate, it is only fair._

"I can go to Hogwarts and take a peak under your shorts," she said weakly, clearly disappointed that I wanted to stop.

_At least you can touch my body. I can't even feel yours. What do the gloves feel like?_

She sat on the edge of the tub with her long legs outstretched and her youthful round breasts heaving as she sighed deeply. She was completely confident in her own skin and did not attempt to cover up at all. I was free to stare unheeded so I did not encourage her to redress.

"It feels as if someone is rubbing a pair of empty gloves across my skin," she admitted.

_Is that enough for you? _

"It has to be," she replied in frustration. "This is so hard. I want to be with you so badly. I want to see your face, and hear your voice."

_Me too, more than I can express, come on lets go lay down. You can take a bath later. _She followed my gloved hands obediently and climbed into bed. I wrapped my arms around her as best I could and brushed my lips against her temple. I wanted to kiss her, and make love to her, and taste every square inch of her, but what I really wanted was to simply hold her. It was torture at its purest. Nothing Voldemort ever did to me was as excruciating as having a succulent ripe beauty lying next to me and not being able to do a damn thing about. Penance, I was beginning to learn, was a lifelong responsibility.

As the night wore on I began to feel guilty for being with her. She was making me want to live, but in the meantime I was preventing her from doing the same. Just down the hall there were two other young men that would be willing to make her happy and I was keeping her away from them both. I had two schools of thought regarding that. Either Death wanted me to be selfless and let her go, or he was giving me the opportunity to do the opposite and prove that I really wanted what life had to offer. I opted for the latter. And from that moment forward I begged and pleaded Death to give up his game. I know he was listening. I wanted to live and I screamed it from every rooftop in London.

On September first I stayed in the castle to watch the last minute preparations for the term take place. As sarcastic and mean as I was to the students I always loved the first day. It was the one day when all of them were excited and prepared to make a fresh start. Their minds were always completely emptied over the summer one way or another, but the first week always produced homework on time and every person would pay attention in class taking good notes. By the second week that was usually out the window. I looked forward to picking out which of the students were going to excel as they were sorted and kept silent wagers with myself over who did or who didn't. I immediately pegged Hermione to be talented and intelligent, but irritating to the extreme. There were so many things I wanted to tell her that would help her in the classroom that I should have told her years ago. For example letting people do their own work and make their own mistakes, and not answering every question so that the other students might find the motivation to do the reading as well, rather than rely on her. I honestly don't believe anyone ever told her those things before.

Many of the returning seventh years opted out of riding on the Hogwarts express and were gathering in Hogsmeade throughout the day catching up and offering their sympathies to each other on the loved ones they lost in the war. It was a bittersweet day, but excitement was in the air. I found Hermione along with Potter, Krum, and almost the entire Weasley clan including Fleur who was visibly pregnant. She was no doubt the first in a long line of Weasley brood mares to come. I was not opposed to raising a family, obviously it was necessary to preserve the human race, but I did not understand having children to outnumber the amount of parents. It was a personal opinion, but one I should probably discuss with Hermione. I wasn't sure what her opinions were. I guessed that she would prefer not to have an only child like she was. We had so much to learn about each other, but I needed my blasted body first.

I maintained my position on the fringe and just watched Hermione interact. She was very social and gave each person in the group equal attention. She was poised far beyond her years and I could picture the pair of us together at some social function or another that she dragged me to, her playing the social butterfly, chatting up the right people, and me trailing along, the devoted husband who pretended to be bored, but was secretly pleased to see his wife in action. That was the first time the word husband entered my mental vocabulary that I can recall. In regards to myself that is. I couldn't imagine being anyone's husband or father. I would probably be rubbish at both, that was why I needed someone like Hermione. If I were to be a productive member of society, she would have to lead the way.

When it was finally time for the crowd to disperse Viktor pulled Hermione away from the group and into the shadows behind the Three Broomsticks. I did not plan to eavesdrop, but when they didn't return for a full minute, I went in search of them. If all he was doing was giving her a friendly good bye, he did not need her alone, or for so long. As I looped around the building I did not hear any voices so I thought perhaps they were already gone, but my heart stopped in my chest when I happened upon them. Viktor had his arms wrapped around Hermione, _my _Hermione, and he was kissing her. She had her hands on his chest and was trying to push him away. I moved right up to her, pulled her wand out of her pocket and slipped it in her hand. She had it right between Krum's eyes and poked his forehead with it.

"Back off, Viktor, or I swear I will you will never want to look in the mirror again."

I was so angry I was seeing red and if I had a wand he would have been suffering, but I was too distraught to even admire Hermione's control. I was still seething when she spoke. I didn't even notice that Viktor was gone.

"I know, I know, you didn't trust him. I suppose you don't want me to see him again," she said clearly upset. "Severus, I am really sorry you had to see that."

I tugged on her sleeve and left her to go to the castle. I had to get away. Every time I turned around I was faced with another reason why I needed my body back and I was beginning to feel my sanity slip away. I was losing control over where I went. One minute I was zinging through the entire castle, then the next I was at my home on Spinner's End. I flitted through Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley and Grimmauld Place. I flashed through Malfoy Manor and caught a glimpse of Narcissa sitting in her parlour alone. I ended again by my body in the hospital wing. My head was pounding and my heart was racing. My breathing in both my spiritual and physical bodies was laboured, and I could see sweat beading on my forehead.

I was angry and happy and frightened and hopeful all at the same time. Every thought I'd ever seemed to have flew through my mind again, and a part of me realised that my life was literally flashing before my eyes, the cliché was true. When I got to the past few months I tried to slow it down so that I would remember Hermione before it was all over. It didn't slow, but I saw it all again in great detail, my last image was of her flushed with anger, but her lips full and pink from just being kissed. By someone other than me. Anger and despondency welled up inside of me until I seemed to shrink under the weight of it all. And then it was over, but I was exhausted. I couldn't summon the energy to go to the sorting or be a part of the castle. For the first time since I awoke in this state I felt the need to rest my body, and my mind.

With heavy limbs I climbed onto the bed and settled myself into the frame of my physical body. I closed my eyes and felt my body reconnect one limb at a time. With an enormous effort I attempted to move my ghostly hand away from its flesh and bone counterpart, but it would not budge. I was whole at last, and my final thought was a silent thank you to Death for ending it all while an image of Hermione danced before my mind's eye.

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**Please review! I want to thank Spitfire21 personally for reviewing the last chapter because I couldn't reply!**


	14. I’m here I’m here, but I’m not all there

Disclaimer: Guess what? I'm not JKR

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 14

'_I'm here, I'm here, but I'm not all there.' _

When I woke I knew that I was alive. Not even in hell could one's head pound so violently without splitting or one's throat burn so badly without catching fire. To distract myself from the pain I concentrated on the dream I had just had. I dreamt that I was a ghost, no not quite a ghost, but that was all I could remember before the pain rendered me unconscious again.

The next time I regained consciousness I did not pass out again immediately. I remembered more of my dream, not only was I a spirit, but I was still _here. _Despite my headache and my parched throat I fought to stay awake so I could _remember._ I knew there was something important that I was supposed to recall, but I did not even know where I was. It was not long before I fell asleep again.

The next time I woke I was almost comfortable. I was no longer suffering, but I was involuntary immobile. I could not move, not even to twitch and eyelid. I even felt my head tilt back and the soothing trickle of cool water slide down throat without the ability to make a single indicator that I was somewhere inside my body rather than out of it. It was worse than when I was a spirit. I may as well have been nowhere. I could not hear very well either, I could barely make out the soft movements of whoever was giving me a drink. I heard the soft clink of metal striking metal, and the muffled sounds of robes swishing, but that was all that would penetrate the rushing sound of wind and water in my ears. It felt as if my whole head had been stuffed inside a conch shell.

On the screens that my closed eyelids provided, I saw the liquid bars of a magical cage surround my head and relived the moment when Nagini's deadly fangs closed in on my throat. I knew that was not a dream, I distinctly remembered that happening. That was when I started re-evaluating my hallucinations. They were so lucid, clear, and enduring. I thought I was going mad. Being locked inside my own body, injured and unable to move I could fathom, but only a demented mind would truly believe they spent time locked _outside_ their own body, living a life no less, speaking to someone long dead, and... Speaking to someone alive. I remembered her then, the brown eyes and hair, and writing letters, but surely it was all a dream. I dismissed it as the crackbrained musings that they probably were and fell back asleep, sure that when I woke the next time I would remember nothing at all. In fact, as my head began to ache again, and the coolness of the water went away revealing the inferno in my throat, I hoped I would not have to wake again.

Awake again, I did though. My head ached less and my throat was dry and thirsty, but not burning. I could hear voices, and the skin of my eyelids was brighter signalling daylight, but I still could not open them.

"—happens every year, broken wrists, broken ankles, there's always one who doesn't listen," I heard a voice I knew well mutter. "Now sit back Mr. Fiske and drink up, careful there, it's not pumpkin juice!"

_Poppy. _Was I at Hogwarts? I thought I was at St. Mungo's, brought there by _her_ before I went out completely. Perhaps that was why I kept dreaming of her, but then how did I get to Hogwarts? I couldn't remember that part, I could still only remember talking to Hermione, and then Minerva, but I couldn't remember what we talked about, just how I felt. In fact it took years of reminders, and many visits through the Pensieve to remember everything that I did, and even some of those memories were clouded by my pessimism, assumptions, and misplaced judgments.

Of one thing I was positive, if I was at Hogwarts, I wanted out as soon as possible, preferably with just enough energy to kill myself properly, because if all the emotions I remembered from my dreams were actually true, then I couldn't possibly face any of those people again. There were no expectations when I was a spirit. I had the ability disappear at will and nobody could really do anything about it, in fact, they probably would have spent some time questioning their own sanity. Back in my body, though, I would be obligated to honour the things I said, and the promises I made. It wasn't that I didn't want to, I just didn't know how. Before I completely lost my head worrying about those things I first had to find out if any of them were true, but before I could do that I had to fall asleep again.

"I knew I would find you here."

That was the voice that awoke me for the last time before I regained use of my body. There was no sign that I was awake, but based on the whispering and how dark it was behind my eyelids, I would venture to say it was very late. I recognised Potter's voice, and with it came the annoyance that I had taught myself to associate with it. Of all the people I had to wake up to, it had to him.

"Come on, he's not going to wake up tonight, Hermione," Harry whispered. I heard someone shifting around as if getting more comfortable.

"I'm staying just a little longer," I will never know how I was able to remain still when I heard her voice.

Harry sighed deeply. "What makes you think he is even going to want to see you when he does wake?"

I could sense Granger fidgeting like she always did when she was put on the spot.

"Nothing."

"I mean, seriously," Harry continued in ferocious whisper. "I know you like him and all, but he is in love with my _mum_. If you're crazy enough to get caught here you'll just get hurt."

"How do you know he is still in love with her?" she whispered offended. "And since when is nobody as good as your mother?"

"You saw the memories," Harry snapped a little loudly, but then he quieted. "He left Voldemort for her, and his Patronus is the same."

"She also refused to forgive him for a teenage mistake and married _your_ father, remember? He wants to- he needs to move on."

"You're my friend, Hermione, and you always will be, but I think you are barking mad to fancy him regardless of what you think you know about him, and my mother. Look, I promised McGonagall that I'd get you out of here because you need to sleep. Come on before Madame Pomfrey wakes up," Harry coaxed.

"Fine," she said dragging the syllable out longer than necessary. I wanted her to stay so I could listen to her argue with Potter forever.

When I was positive they were gone I managed to coax one eye open, and then the other. It felt like they were glued shut and I could feel the grit in my eyes struggling to keep the lids securely closed. Once they were opened, I was infinitely grateful it was dark. Even the dim light that is maintained every hour of the night in the hospital wing was too much. Involuntary, I closed my eyes against it, but it was easier to force them open again and blink a few times.

My head started to ache again with my eyes open. It was as if each and every one of my nerve endings came to life at once, and my entire body was on pins and needles as it resuscitated. Tiny lights popped in front of my eyes until they finally refocused and my muscles tingled less. I don't know what I was expecting to see. I was still too weak to move my head so all I could look at was the stone ceiling of the hospital wing. It was just as well, the ceiling held just as many answers for me as, I did. Granger did not confirm that my dreams had really happened, but she'd been about to say I wanted to move on. Did she know? Or, was it Gryffindor presumption? I was beginning to think that the best course of action for me to take was to pretend that I remembered nothing and let things take their course. In the meantime, I wanted to move my hands enough to rub the sleep out of my eyes and give my bollocks a good scratch.

I was in the midst of a Herculean effort to move my arm when a loud gasp caused me to lie still again. It had belatedly occurred to me that I was actually going to _move_ my _real _arm to scratch an itch I no doubt had had for months. It was not the pain, or the sheer effort it was taking to move, or the fact that I was laying on my back and staring at the ceiling, it was the fact that someone could _see _me move that finally drove home the point that I was back in my body. I waited for Poppy to come to my side and start fussing over me, but apparently she had disappeared.

I was not left alone long however, for in the next moment my eyes were filled with the face of not only Madame Pomfrey, but Minerva McGonagall as well. Her hair was wild from recently being roused, but she'd managed to stuff her ridiculous tartan hat on her head. Only Poppy looked unruffled as she managed to do at any hour of the day or night. It was a testament to her skill as a healer, always battle ready.

"Severus! You're awake!" I enjoy it when people state the obvious, so naturally I rolled my eyes. It was a knee-jerk reaction.

"He appears to be himself, too," Poppy said standing back and whipping her wand out. The longer I was awake the more I felt some strength return and I was finally able to lift a hand. I batted Poppy's wand away weakly and attempted to speak, but my first sound only came out as a raspy exhalation of air. I winced as the burn in my throat increased tenfold. I was so dehydrated I felt like parchment.

"Here, Severus, drink this," Poppy said as she lifted my head and poured a restorative drought down my throat. The results were immediate.

"Stop fussing over me," I finally managed with a voice gravelly from disuse. My vocal cords were quite intact though, Smethwyck and Pye had done a phenomenal job healing the damage caused by Nagini.

"Oh, tosh," was Poppy's immediate reply as she continued her diagnostics. "You've been in a coma for four months, don't expect to just get up and walk away."

"Four months?" I repeated quietly. Poppy patted me on the shoulder and disappeared again.

Minerva had taken the seat next to my head and was peering at me with a mixture of concern and austerity warring for precedence on her face. As if resigning herself to feel both in equal measure, Minerva pursed her lips for a moment before speaking to me.

"Severus, what do you remember?"

I hesitated before answering. If I were to maintain that I remembered nothing from my time as a spirit then it would be best to not acknowledge it unless directly asked.

"I remember getting bit by a great bloody snake," I rasped out. "Why are you speaking to me? Aren't I supposed to be rotting away in Azkaban's hospital wing and not Hogwarts?"

Minerva looked aghast and very hurt. Apparently the time we spent while I was out of body had meant something more to her than I thought.

"Is that all?" she asked dejected.

I turned my head ever so slightly so that I could look at her, a crick in my neck caused me to wince sharply, but I was able to maintain eye contact.

"Is there something else I should remember?"

Minerva searched my eyes, but my Occlumency shields had already snapped into place where they would remain until it was necessary to take them down. After a moment she nodded, seemingly in understanding.

"It was not a dream, Severus," she murmured quietly. "I wish you would remember that."

I ignored her. She clearly figured me out before I could get the shields up. There was no point in denying anything, and to be quite honest, I did not want to. That part of me that I'd discovered in limbo was still trying to burst forth. Finding the balance between Snape the git, and Severus the decent bloke, was going to be difficult.

"Is it really four months?" I whispered. The few words I had uttered were already taking a toll on my weak throat muscles. "It was supposed to be longer."

The change in Minerva's countenance was immediate and profound. "You do know it wasn't a dream, thank heavens, I was afraid I'd gone as mad as King George. It is Saturday, the fifth of September. Term has only just begun so you won't be missing very much at all."

The day Minerva didn't get right to the point was the day the earth stopped spinning. I could hear Poppy coming to my little room, the sounds of her footsteps light and quick despite the heavy tray she was bearing when she arrived. The smell of soup wafted through the air making my mouth water.

"You're mad if you think the public will allow me teach here," I whispered sharply.

"Poppy, I'll take that; will you excuse us for a moment?" Minerva took the tray from the medi-witch and pushed her out the door. Poppy fought and sputtered protestations the whole way, but was muscled out by the old woman. Minerva set the tray down and silenced the door.

"I thought we had already discussed this. It is what you said you wanted, and I have it in writing if you need proof." She lifted a potion vial and forced the contents down my throat with surprising efficiency. She was so quick and agile with her administrations I was swallowing before I even knew what was happening.

"How do you want to go about this, Severus? Do you want the school to be apprised of your return, or would you like to make a grand entrance in the Hall one morning and shock the entire student body? You are returning to teach potions the moment you are well, and that is that. If you feel the need to rehash the discussions we had while you were physically indisposed, we may, but I immensely prefer to move on," she stated, her arms folded neatly over her chest. She was looking at me in a way that brooked no refusal.

I did not want to rehash the discussions we might have had while I was 'physically indisposed' either, but I did not know what was accurate and what was not. It was easy for me to give in, however, because it was exactly what I wanted, to just return. Minerva took my silence as hesitation.

"Do not be afraid of what people think of you, Severus," she said placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You are protected here."

"I don't give a flying fart in space what people think of me, Minerva." That was true.

"Of course you don't." She replied.

"Really four months?" I repeated still unable to shake off the feeling that I had been tricked by Death, the flipping arsemonger. Or, Dumbledore, maybe he lied to me and it was never going to be six months. It would be just like him to give me a deadline because I relied on things like those to stay focussed. I wouldn't put it past him, as much as I tried to be an enigma there were some people who could see right through me. The woman before me was one of them.

"Is there anyone you would like to know that you are awake?" she asked meaningfully. My mind immediately turned to Granger. What was I to do about her? The school year had only just begun leaving me with ten long months to face her every day either as a teacher, or a friend and a lover. I desperately wanted the latter, more than I ever thought I would, but being faced with the genuine option of being with her changed everything. Would the whole world turn on her for wanting to be with me? Would we even like each other when we got to know each other? Could I ever be good enough for her? All of the concerns that felt distant and paltry when I was a spirit now felt like roadblocks to my destiny.

"No, Minerva," _yes, _"and please tell Poppy to restrict visitors to only yourself and other faculty members. And of course the Aurors who wish to question me. I would like my rehabilitation to remain a secret until it is over."

"Are you certain?" she asked me, the sadness returning to her eyes. Could it be that she wanted me to want Granger?

"Please, respect my wishes," I demanded quietly. "Now, if you don't mind, I need some privacy. Please send Poppy back in."

Minerva nodded sharply and opened the door.

"Well, I declare! You may be Head of this school, but I am the head of this hospital—"

"Enough, Poppy. He is your patient now, do take care of him." Minerva gave me one last expressionless glance before leaving me.

Once she was gone though, I immediately demanded that Poppy help me sit up. The task was straining because my muscles had remained so still for so long, but not nearly as difficult as I'd expected. My arms were getting stronger by the moment, and I was able to push off with my feet to ease my body up along the bed. I was breathing heavily when I was finally settled against the headboard with a pillow behind my back. Without saying anything I looked over at the chamber pot sitting near my bed on a table full of supplies. Poppy immediately took the hint and handed it over.

"Where is my wand?" I asked.

Poppy smiled and reached into a drawer on the side table. She lifted out the precious wood and deposited it on the bed next to me.

"Call me when you are finished," she said and exited the door. I would have been humiliated to have to request such a thing from anyone, but Poppy had a gift that sucked away your pride and left you resigned to the fate of being human.

Once she was out the door I lifted my wand and hefted it in front of my face. Tears prickled in the corners of my eyes as I felt the familiar swoop and surge of magical energy course through my body. I felt exhilarated and almost whole again.

I fumbled for a moment getting myself into a position to relieve myself, but once I did I could not help but sigh with relief. It was almost orgasmic. I used a vanishing spell when I was finished and levitated the cleaned bedpan back to the table. It felt extraordinary to do magic again, even if it was to simply spare myself the embarrassment of having Poppy look at the result of my personal plumbing system. Once my hands were free of the pot I reached down and gave myself a good scratch in that place of universal comfort reserved only for males. I felt like a new man.

"Poppy," I called through the door. I was beginning to get tired again, how I will not know after sleeping for as long as I did, but tired I was nonetheless. It wasn't sleep that I wanted right away, though. I wanted that soup I could still smell on the tray.

"Finally, I can tend to my patient," she muttered as she picked up the tray and settled it on my lap. There was a cup of weak tea next to the soup and I went for that first without shame.

"Be careful, Severus. Too much too quickly and you will vomit it all back up," her voice was quavering slightly.

I put the teacup down. "What is the diagnosis, Poppy? I am going to recuperate?"

"You are a marvel," she said looking at me as if I were a novelty.

I took a few sips of the tepid broth and put it back down. Not only were my arms getting weaker, but my stomach was as well.

"How do you figure?" I asked sleepily.

"You are almost perfectly recovered. Other than lack of use in your arms and legs, you are completely healed from your bite, and your body is perfectly healthy. You should be weak, and pale and too thin, but you look almost as you did on that last day..." she trailed off shaking her head.

I couldn't tell her that I wasn't really in a coma without revealing Death's little game so I merely grunted.

"The last few days had me worried, but here you are!" she finished more cheerfully. "Now go back to sleep. You will need your rest to regain your strength."

"I have been sleeping too much," I mumbled grumpily, but my eyelids were weighted down.

"Don't worry, you will be back to normal in no time," she patted my cheek and walked to the door. "Welcome back," she said before exiting the room.

I fell asleep again, but this time it was a normal sleep and I dreamt of seeing Hermione's face again with my own eyes. When I woke a few hours to light streaming in through the window I still could not stop thinking about her. When I dreamt of her we were dancing. I held her close and swirled around the astronomy tower with her as if no one in the world could touch us. Seeing her would be easy. All I would have to do was summon her and she would be there, probably teary eyed and sympathetic, but I did not want that. I wanted to wait until I was back to normal and prowling the halls like my old self. I could not let her live under the misapprehension that the open honest man she got to know through my letters was all there was of me. I had to remind her that I used to be someone else and that would require me approaching her on my own terms. If I made her a little angry, perhaps she would be less likely to bestow her pity on me. I thought when I saw her again that I would know what to do, and discretion was the ultimate goal now that I was visible.

By the end of that Saturday evening I had managed to stay awake for an entire day, eat a meal of solid food, and walk myself to the bathroom and back. I bathed and spent a considerable amount of time examining my features. I was too thin, and I looked older than I should, but I conjectured good sleep, regular meals, and a life without war would restore my weight. My eyes were as black as ever and I often wondered what they looked like to other people. I always saw frustration. I shaved and ran a hand down the smooth skin of my angular jaw. I was never handsome, but there was only feature of mine that I never liked. I was exhausted from the physical exertions, but I felt good. My mind was alert and I was filled with anticipation of leaving the hospital wing and returning to my rooms. Naturally I wanted to go right away, but Poppy insisted that I remain in hospital until the next evening and then I would be free to sleep in my own bed.

I wanted to begin teaching again as early as Monday. I did not want to lose one more day of the school year and was eager to repair the damage that Slughorn had caused. I requested the copies of his syllabi for the current and previous year so that I could devise a teaching schedule that would somehow cram in the necessary review that would enable them to complete the new material before the end of the year. The difficulty level of the potions and theory Slughorn was teaching was right on target as I expected. He was my own potions master, after all, and I knew that he was not a complete buffoon, but the potions he taught were frivolous and I feared that the students would have a misguided view of the importance of proper potion making.

Everything Slughorn taught had some dramatic application to it, such as Felix Felicis, Amortentia, and the Draught of Living Death, but he ignored more practical potions that were less exciting to talk about. A blood replenishing potion required several days of careful brewing with over ninety ingredients and was immensely useful in any medicine cabinet, but he did not teach it at all. Slughorn was decent at brewing, but I never truly believed that he had any deep appreciation for the exquisite melange of different colours, textures, and scents that resulted from a perfectly crafted potion. I lay awake late into that night devising a pre-test for each year so that I could better assess their skill level. Two years away from teaching potions was enough to convince me that it was necessary, especially after the catastrophic previous year.

I slept more or less normally that night and woke early on Sunday morning. I never did sleep much and it appeared that my body was readily slipping into its old habits. I was up and about walking around the room for awhile before Poppy even came in to check on me. My legs were still slightly shaky after too much exercise, but I was definitely well enough to complete my convalescence under my own supervision. I was ready for the privacy of my quarters. I even dressed in my traditional teaching robes hoping to find an early escape. There was no hope for it though for I was barraged with visits from most of the faculty as they came to welcome me back, or in the case of Trelawny to peer at me, confirm I was indeed alive, and then predict my early demise. I had very little conversation with the faculty as they visited except with the few that I conversed with regularly, Flitwick, Hooch, and Vector. I did not want to hear their apologies for believing me evil. If they had not believed I was truly a Death Eater then I would have failed miserably at my task. I was quick to remind them of that, and it successfully shut them up.

Madame Hooch seemed particularly pleased to see me. We had a history of getting together for broom races every now and then, something the Ravenclaw and I did since I first began teaching. Flying was one of the few times I felt the cares of the world slip away and Hooch provided a competitive partner. Occasionally Septima Vector would join us, or I would fly with her alone. In the typical fashion of a Slytherin she would race over the Forbidden Forest with me without saying a word, unlike Hooch who had a tendency to whoop and holler when she raced. I enjoyed flying; it made me feel young and spontaneous. I reflected with a heavy heart on the flying trick that Voldemort had taught me. The spell required to fly without the aid of a broom was not dark magic in its own right. It did require a colossal amount of magical power, but when Voldemort created the spell he did not call down any demons, or murder anyone or any animal, it was just that it was _his_ spell. As exhilarating as it was to fly so freely, the act would forever be tainted by its creator. I had frightened the people I cared about by doing it, and I wasn't sure I would ever attempt it again.

Horace Slughorn was one of my last visitors of the day. He came with Hagrid who had developed an odd sort of friendship with the man after his acromantula died a couple of years ago. Slughorn had a tendency to befriend those who had access to rare and expensive potions ingredients as Hagrid did, but based on their congeniality I would guess that their friendship was unaffected.

"Good to have you back m'boy!" Slughorn said clapping me on the shoulder. "I am packed and ready to return to my retirement, so get a move on!"

"Indeed, I will return as soon as the resident medical dictator releases me," I replied. I was ready to go ahead and begin teaching the very next day. I did not plan on lecturing or letting anyone brew, therefore I had very little chance of wearing myself out. Since my body was not exactly depleting during my coma, but in a stasis, my recovery was almost complete.

Hagrid did not seem as pleased to see me as Slughorn, and I could not blame him. The gentle giant had always trusted me even in the face of adversity. Harry was the only other soul on earth that Hagrid would listen to over me, and that did not even begin until Harry insisted it was I who murdered our erstwhile headmaster. If he had heard tale of it from any other lips, Hagrid would have sought me out for the truth. I too relied on Hagrid for potions ingredients, but he was always a champion for my cause and treated me well. He felt a kinship with me, both of us being misfits of the school, and I appreciated it. I also secretly admired his will to come out every single day despite being kicked out of school and having his wand snapped, and constantly harassed for being a half-giant. His resolve to push forth despite what people thought of him was only interrupted in the moments he would overindulge, but even those were short lived and a good night's sleep would put him right. Seeing him eye me warily hurt me and reminded me painfully of all the things I had done to make such an honest man distrust me.

"Professor Snape," he said in his deep rumbling voice nodding at me.

"Hagrid," I replied as friendly as I could without seeming false. "It is good to see you."

I do not believe I had uttered those words to another human soul in at least a decade with any real conviction. Immediately Hagrid's eyes filled with water and his voice began to shake. I knew that the apologies for not trusting me were coming, but I was beyond fed up with people apologising to me. I spoke before he could say anything.

"I am so sorry for all that I had to do. Dumbledore was a dear friend to us both." It was the first time I had apologised for killing Dumbledore out loud. "I cannot begin to make right what went wrong during the last year, but I hope you will give me a chance."

Hagrid let the tears run freely out of his eyes. I felt my own vision clouding, but I blinked to clear it and returned my face to its usual stony mask. Hagrid knew right away that I was done and did not want to hear anything from him unless it was to castigate me. He had the right, they all did, and why no one had yet was beyond my ken.

"Well then, it's good to see ya, too. If you'd be needing anything, well, you know where ter go," Hagrid said through his tears. He reached out to shake my hand and I took it hesitantly. After they left I had to sit for a few minutes and collect myself before I called for Poppy to come and issue my release.

"I suppose I can't keep you in here any longer. Just take it easy on the solid food for awhile and make sure you rest. I don't know how you did it, but you came out of this completely unscathed," she said as she ran a final diagnostics test on me. She peered in my eyes and flashed her lighted wand in them before quietly adding on, "physically unscathed, anyway."

I hated it when people made assumptions like that about me. I was always the tragic one that everyone feared and pitied. I needed to find a way to transform the fear to respect and erase the pity altogether, but I did not know where to begin. There was one thing I wanted from Poppy though that I swore I would do the moment I had my body back, and I was sure it would not be useful in accomplishing either.

"Before I go, Poppy, I would like a favour," I said before I could change my mind. I had vanity when it came to possessions, clothes, and brewing equipment, but I never spared a second thought for my looks. But now, I had to make an effort to appear more like a normal person and less like an evil spy. My hair looked quite normal without months of potions fumes greasing it up and I would take the time to maintain it better, my nose was not to be helped. It was as much a part of me as anything and I wouldn't change it, but I knew of a pretty dentist's daughter who might appreciate two rows of straight pearly whites, and I knew of a healer who'd been asking to fix them for years. Poppy often said that I was a poster child for the abrogating British dentistry stereotype.

"Anything," she replied sitting down and waiting patiently for my request.

"I would like you to help me fix my teeth."

She smiled like I'd just turned on the sun.

* * *

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	15. Forgive Thyself Little, And Others Much

Disclaimer: No money, no fame, no nothing, why? Cuz I ain't JKR, that's why

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 15

Forgive Thyself Little, And Others Much

"I did not announce that you would be resuming your post, but I believe that Slughorn said as many goodbyes last night as he could just before he left, so most students will be expecting to see you at breakfast." Minerva had arrived early at my quarters in the dungeon to escort me to breakfast. "You look very well, Severus. You still look tired and you need to gain weight, but that was true before. I do hope this year goes well for you. You are very fortunate."

"Doubtlessly," I mumbled under my breath as we entered the Great Hall through the staff doors on the side by the long table. Minerva gestured that I sit next to her in Slughorn's vacated spot. On the other side Filius Flitwick leaned over to greet us both. Breakfast was not yet on the table so there were no students. Typically, on Monday mornings they straggled in tired and late, grabbed some toast and left again for class. Apparently word of my reinstatement as potions master had spread because shortly after the food was served the hall began to fill.

I slowly and methodically prepared my coffee and sipped it. Every pair of eyes that entered the Great Hall was trained on me putting me off my breakfast. I attempted to appear engaged in conversation with Minerva but it was difficult when I could not ignore the pointed whispers and fingers aimed at me. Not every look was of total disgust, but they were immensely distrustful and I had earned that. It was the price I was going to pay for the rest of my life for espionage. If anyone knew of one simple act that would erase the fear and loathing in many of those student's eyes I would have done it without hesitation. Hating me was good for the students, it gave them a common purpose and was a more effective equaliser than uniforms or house unity would ever be.

It was not long before Bill Weasley arrived in the hall and took pity on me.

"It's not often I'll be able to make it for breakfast," Bill said cheerfully as he helped himself to kippers and toast. "With the baby and living off campus it makes it difficult. Getting used to coming in the middle of the night for rounds is taking some doing."

I was going to grunt noncommittally, but then I remembered that I was supposed to making friends. After all, this man lost his brother due to the war, and I cut off the ear of the other one. The least I could do was feign interest and offer help.

"If you find yourself unable to perform your duties, do not hesitate to ask me to assist you," I said, but apparently it came out wrong because Bill scowled slightly.

"I can manage my duties, thanks," he said before turning back to his breakfast.

I sighed deeply and counted to three. Nobody was going to except kindness from me if I did not reduce the acidity of my tone. "I meant no offense, only that family should come f—' I trailed off when I saw them enter the Great Hall.

"Only what?" Bill asked. I took my eyes off her for a split second to look at Bill.

"I was just saying that family should come first." I turned away from Bill and didn't even here his response. Hermione was looking at me along with the other two thirds that constituted her whole being. Ron was looking at me like the gormless nitwit that he is and waved at Bill. Harry looked at me with the same challenging expression he'd worn since he was eleven years old. In some distant part of my memory I saw his face, looking worn out and disconsolate. _'Just stay away from me, Professor.'_

I couldn't stay away from him if I wanted to because he was in the Potions NEWT. I had a staunch reputation for not accepting less than an O in my toughest potions class, but I would be taking all the students that Slughorn had begun with. The least I could do is not actively single him out like I did in the past. I would find a way to make amends with or without his cooperation.

Hermione was a different story; she looked at me with an amalgamation of confusion, worry, hurt, and anger. There was no possible way she could know if I retained my memories unless Minerva told her and I know that Minerva would never betray my confidence that way. I wanted to get up from the table and swoop across the hall and take her in my arms and tell her I remembered. I was beginning to sincerely regret not inviting her to the hospital wing to talk to her right away. When I tell her the truth she is going to, for a lack of better words, flip out, and I would deserve every ounce of her wrath. I could not give in to my wishes in front of the entire student body and faculty however, so all I did was offer her a surreptitious nod whilst keeping my face blank. I did not want to go through the pretence of making an excuse to see her, like something as ridiculously trite as giving her a detention for something completely benign. I didn't want to appear like an arse hole on my first day back, it would just hurt her and piss off Potter which would ruin my chances of getting into both of their good graces. Besides, with the test I had planned for class there would be little opportunity to interact.

Seventh year double NEWTs potions was not until directly after lunch, but it was still not enough time to devise a plan to discreetly remove her from her friends so that we could talk. The morning had been more or less successful. Each student took my exam and filled it out without the usual muttering that I never tolerated anyway. The first years did not know me very well anyway, and the fourth years I had were not stupid enough to say anything. I may have been needlessly worrying. After the fourth year class I made my appearance in the Great Hall at lunch and had to force my eyes on my plate so as to avoid staring at her. I caught her glancing in my direction out of the corner of my eye and it appeared that she was taking great pains to avoid appearing anything more than indifferent towards myself. I rushed through my meal so that I could escape to my potions classroom and practise being stoic before she arrived. When I first awoke I thought that maintaining a distance would be relatively easy, but I was beginning to learn that I did not know anything about anything.

I slipped inside my office just before the students began to arrive and waited until one o'clock exactly before I emerged. The students in this class were the ones most likely to resent me, but while they were silent, they were only looking at me with curiosity. Draco, who I'd only just realised I hadn't seen at either meal so far, was actually looking at me apologetically. A couple of the other Slytherins held some antipathy in their expression and I expected that. All three of the golden trio carefully avoided my eyes. It just occurred to me that I could ask more than one student to stay behind and that would appear less suspicious than just requesting Hermione.

Without saying a word I passed out the exams as I always did.

"Today you will be taking a pre-test so that I may assess your abilities thus far," I began, earning a few disgruntled sighs as the students flipped through the lengthy booklet. The book held more questions than I expected any of them to be able to answer in one session, and they got progressively harder as it went on. If they made it halfway through the booklet it would show that they were at least average for the level. "Your scores will not go against your grade, and I do not expect you to finish the entire exam. This is merely an evaluation so that I may find the proper starting point for our studies this year."

I received a few bemused glances from the students. I usually never handed out anything without the expectation that it be completed and marked appropriately.

"Are there any questions?" Despite herself I could see Hermione fighting the urge to raise her hand. This is the point when I would make a rude comment about her inability to remain still or quiet, but I wanted to show her that I was on her side for once. I swept the classroom as if looking for questions in each students eyes lingering on hers last.

"Miss Granger, do you have a question?" I asked trying to keep my voice calm. It felt surreal actually talking to her and I mentally booted myself in the bollocks for making our first few exchanged words take place in my classroom. I was such a cad.

She was slightly flustered by my polite address, but responded with an inscrutableness that actually stung. "Yes, sir. I was wondering if we were going to receive feedback on our answers."

That was a very typical Hermione Granger question. It was impossible for her to just let an answer be right or wrong without discussing it to death. I was in no position to judge that as a fault and finally had an opportunity to really teach her before me.

"Yes, Miss Granger, I will be going over each exam carefully and will give you feedback. You all may feel free to see me when you get them back if you have concerns. Any other questions? No? You may begin."

I turned around, robes billowing behind me, and moved to settle down at my desk. When I sat, three pairs of eyes were still looking at me Hermione's, Potter's, and Malfoy's. I looked back sternly and all three of them immediately turned to their work. I sat there grading the first year's potions exams for the entire ninety minutes. They were a disaster of course. It was blatantly clear which students were here the previous school year and which ones were very new. One student, when asked what single ingredient item is a cure for most common poisons wrote 'an antidote.' I actually had to check the class roster to see who that student was, and it was Adrian Fiske, Gryffindor, the same student who was in the hospital wing when I woke. He was a non-traditional first year which meant he should know very well that the answer was bezoars. I inwardly groaned as I flipped through his exam and saw that he gave a similar smart arse response to almost every question. Things would not be back to normal without one student who insisted on being a righteous pest.

At the end of class there were many sighs of relief when I collected the exams. I purposely collected them a few minutes before bell so that I could give them a cursory glance before I released them. The students started talking in whispers to each other about the questions, an action that I would usually hand out detentions for before, but this time I did not care.

"Silence," I said merely out of habit. "For Wednesday please read the first two chapters of your textbook. I want you to write out a twelve inch summary of them. I want one inch margins and no big print. A twelve inch summary is not a twelve inch summary if your letters are half an inch tall." I looked directly at Weasley when I said that. He blushed furiously, but it was true and all the teachers complained that he shirked his educational responsibilities. If he aspired to be an Auror he was going to have to work harder.

"Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger, if you two will stay behind, the rest of you are dismissed." I timed that last perfectly, for the bell rang the moment I finished speaking.

Draco looked at myself then Granger with confusion, but remained seated.

"Do you want us to wait in the hall for you?" Harry asked Hermione.

I stepped around my desk and answered for her. "That will not be necessary, Potter."

I tried to keep my voice even, but it was difficult. Harry looked at me suspiciously, but then he shrugged and he and Ron left the room.

"Miss Granger, if you will excuse us for one moment, I will be right with you," I gestured towards Draco and ushered him into my office.

"Draco," I said in hello. It was really wonderful to see him, despite how sad he looked.

He did not say anything at first and for a moment I thought he was going to get up and leave. "Professor," he replied.

"How are you?" I finally asked, completely unsubtle and not all like a Slytherin.

I could see him struggling not to answer me honestly. In the end he shrugged and remained silent.

"I do not wish to keep you, I merely wanted to tell you that although I am no longer your head of house, I am still your godfather and should you wish to confide in me, I will be here." The last time I offered him my confidence he nearly killed a student. A flash of anger passed over his features, but he quickly redirected his face into neutrality.

"Yes, Professor," he said biting out the word reminding me that being his godfather meant very little to him. I was no longer Uncle Severus. I hoped he would forgive me for having to lie to him for so long. He really didn't seem angry at me, just angry and it wasn't like him to reveal how he was actually feeling so easily in the first place. "Can I go?"

"Yes," I said in resignation. He was going to take more work, but I knew him well enough to know that I would have to wait for him to approach me now. I really should write his mother as well to get a feel for how he is holding up.

Draco left the room without a backwards glance for me or Hermione. When the door was firmly shut behind him I really looked at Hermione for the first time. Her big eyes were wide with wonder and expectation. I could see hope in them and I prayed it was reflected in my own.

"Please come to my office," I said quietly. She picked up her bag and followed me in and sat down in the chair Draco just vacated. "Tea?"

She nodded and I busied myself preparing the tea and I automatically went to fix her cup when I realised I couldn't remember how she took her tea. It was one of the details of our time together that escaped me. I paused and stared at the tea for a moment.

"Professor?" she asked carefully. "Are you all right?"

I handed her the cup of tea which she took and I pushed the tray with milk and sugar towards her.

"Yes, I am quite fine; I just couldn't remember how you take your tea."

"What do you mean, sir?" she asked, and then she breathed "Oh."

She set the cup down with a loud clink. "You remember other things though? About me?"

I looked in her eyes searching for emotions, but her walls were up as effectively as mine were. I had to break through them.

"Yes, Hermione," I said gently wanting to reach for her, but not sure how. "I remember you."

She knew what I was referring to and I believe that she was intentionally obtuse when she asked her next question. The fact she ignored my use of her surname was enough to irk me.

"You specifically remember being with me when you were in a coma and you were some sort of spirit?"

"Yes," I replied unsure where she was going to go next.

"When did you return to your body?"

"I returned shortly after I saw you in Hogsmeade on the first day of term," I replied hoping she would start to soften soon. She did seem momentarily relieved. "I did not intentionally abandon you if that is what you are concerned about. That is one of the reasons I wanted to speak with you. When I woke in the hospital wing I didn't remember everything right away because it all felt like a dream, it still does, but I spoke with Minerva and she assured me that it was real. After that everything sort of fell into place for me and things are getting clearer every day."

"I believe you did not intentionally abandon me when you returned to your body, but what I don't understand is why you did not seek me out immediately upon waking and remembering me! Why did you talk to only Minerva? I thought you trusted me and cared for me!" She was livid. Her brown eyes were sparkling with unshed tears of betrayal.

"First of all, Minerva came in when Poppy discovered I was awake and it was she who asked me if I remembered anything. Second of all, if she didn't, what was I supposed to do? Summon you first, and ask if you remember me having an out of body experience? What if it was a dream and you thought I was insane?" This is not how I wanted our reunion to be.

Hermione was standing up and backing towards the doorway, her bag in her hand. "And after you knew it wasn't? Why didn't Headmistress McGonagall get me?"

I just stared at her unable to bring myself to admit anything let alone the truth.

"Why?" she demanded again.

"I can't answer that," I said meekly. She was never going to forgive me. I made another stupid mistake and it was like Lily all over again.

"Can't? Or, won't?" Her back was solidly in the doorway. I reached out to stop her from retreating, but she neatly sidestepped me and moved back into the classroom.

"I knew you would be angry, but I wasn't trying to hurt you. I only woke Friday night! I wanted to be free of the hospital wing before I saw you. I wasn't sure what I was going to say!"

Hermione laughed one sharp menacing bark of laughter. "A simple hello would have sufficed. I thought you cared about me. Do you have any idea how agonising the last week has been not knowing where you were? And then I hear a rumour that you are awake and well, and guess what it's true! Lo and behold there you are sitting in the Great Hall like everything is as it should be with barely a glance in my direction!"

She turned around and took a few more steps to leave.

"Don't, Hermione," I said pleading with her. "I can't bear it if you walk away not knowing if you will ever forgive me."

She stopped but did not turn around. When she spoke I could hear tears thickening her voice.

"I want to forgive you, but you haven't told me why I should."

"I felt sorry for myself, Hermione. I hate pity and I pitied myself, and I was afraid you would pity me too. I am not good enough for you. I remember a lot, but I don't remember everything."

She reached up and swiped at a tear before turning around. "I don't pity you. I never did and I told you that. I believe I also said that I would decide what is good enough for me. Right now you aren't good enough for me or at least not man enough."

That was like a punch to the gut, but accurate.

"What do you remember, Severus?" My name flowed around me softening my heart even further, leaving it more vulnerable to her crushing blows.

"I remember wanting to be with you," I said taking another slow step towards her. She did not back away again and I felt hopeful.

"In what capacity?"

I didn't expect that question. "In every capacity."

"You should have gotten me!" she said angrily. "If you cared that much you should have gotten me!"

"I made a mistake and I want to fix it, but I don't know how. I do not know how to _do_ this. You have to meet me halfway. I'm sorry, really truly sorry. I wanted you there, I really did, I was just nervous! Haven't you ever been unsure of anything in your life?" I demanded. "I am your teacher; I can't just go running to you in the Great Hall and sweep you up in my arms, because that is what I wanted to do."

I reached out and touched her hand; the contact of skin on skin was like a lightning bolt through my arm. "You can see me now. I'm here and I am ready, but I need you to forgive me for this one thing. Only you can help me remember more."

She looked down at our joined hands for a moment. I was rubbing the back of her hand with my thumb savouring each spark of sensation it sent through me. After a moment she pulled her hand from mine and the loss of contact hollowed out my gut.

"Hermione, please," I said again searching her eyes. I hated that she was making me beg, but if she walked away the pain Lily had caused me would be a tiny pinprick in comparison to the firebrand Hermione was about to drive through my chest. "I want to start over."

"Then you have to think of me sometimes, Severus. You can't just assume that you can stay away and I'm going to simply be okay with it. You are difficult to read. I think I understood you better when you were limited to writing."

My pained expression was not difficult to read I am sure, but I was also quite put out. I was a private person doing my damndest to change and she wasn't being patient enough.

"I'm sorry, that was cruel. You warned me that it might be difficult when you were in your body again."

"I did?" I could not remember that.

"You did." She looked at me with true perplexity in her eyes. "You really do only remember wanting to be with me, don't you? You don't remember much of anything else, do you?"

I nodded. "I remember writing to you and going places with you, but the details are only slowly coming back to me. I remember approaching you, and I remember Australia, and I remember Viktor. I think that is what made me go back to my body. I was so furious with Viktor for touching you that I wanted to slam him into the wall. I hated being a spirit then, I felt like he was touching something that was mine."

"I am yours," she said tearing up again.

"Then forgive me." I was convinced she finally would.

She shook her head and stepped away. "Not yet. I can't."

I had no more words left for her. I did not know what else to say. I couldn't say I loved her because I refused to let that ultimate declaration be what brought us together. I wanted to be what _kept_ us together. I was heartbroken when she walked away; my anguish only compounded by my anger that even in the midst of trying to fix things I'd found a way to fuck up royally. My only glimmer of hope came from her saying 'not yet' rather than 'never.'

Hermione was not at dinner that night. I picked at my food again and it did not go unnoticed.

"What is the matter, Severus? Afraid that eating is going to ruin your new teeth?"

Minerva, always ready to say exactly what needed to be said at the perfect moment. She was the verbal Murphy's Law. I scowled at her, the action comforting and familiar on my face. I glanced up and looked at the hole in the Gryffindor table where Hermione should be, stealing glimpses my way and trying not to smile. At least that was how I pictured it would be. Minerva, ever observant did not miss that small glance.

"Trouble in paradise already?" she said quietly so no one else could hear.

I turned to look at her. Her jocular manner was gone and she looked at me with express concern.

"She was angry because I did not summon her immediately upon discovering I still had my memories and is no mood to forgive me," I stated simply.

"I am saying this as a friend, Severus, but duh. I would be angry too, only a virginal swot would know that he loves someone and not want to be with them the first chance they get. You need to man up and go after her. You deserve it, so go for it." Minerva returned to her mashed potatoes as if we were discussing the weather.

"And if she doesn't forgive me?" I asked.

It was Minerva's turn to scowl. "Why don't you think she will?"

I didn't respond.

Minerva leaned in a little closer and whispered furiously in my ear, "You better not be comparing Granger to Lily Evans, Severus Snape. Lily was different in a million and one ways, and as much as I loved her and you, I would still give her up to Potter. You were made for someone else and now you have her. Do something about it before I have to sack you for being incompetent."

There was nothing like tough love to remind a man he had no balls. That's what I would do then. I would get her to meet with me and demand that she forgive me because I am a decent bloke who deserves a shot. I sounded like an effing fruitcake. I looked across the Great Hall one last time before getting up hoping that maybe Hermione had appeared while I was being castrated my boss. She wasn't there still, but Potter was giving me the evil eye.

I tossed my napkin down on my still full plate despite being hungry and left the Great Hall. I went through the faculty doors, but bypassed my usual side path to the dungeons and went through main entrance instead. The hourglasses were sitting on either of side of the main doors where they were usually, but I had a fuzzy recollection of them being moved during the renovations. Each hourglass held a few bulbs on the bottom, but not one point was awarded by me. I glanced around me to make sure that the area was devoid of any prying eyes or over extending ears and marched right up to the Gryffindor hourglass.

"Ten points to Hermione Granger for being amazing." They were the first points I had ever awarded her, but I didn't stop there. "And ten points to Potter, because he deserves it."

The last of the bulbs fell and I turned to head towards the dungeons when an angry voice stopped me.

"Contemplating how many ways you will be able to remove points from Gryffindor this year?" Potter asked his wand in his hand.

I could rise to the bait, but that was not going to work for me anymore.

"Quite the opposite, I assure you," I replied and then turned to continue on my way.

"What did you do to her?" he demanded. I did not need to ask for clarification. A few students began trickling out of the dining room. I was not going to have this conversation in public and if Potter wanted to have it then he would be wise to follow me with his mouth shut. I turned abruptly and glided down the stairs. He followed, but remained two steps behind.

When we were by the classroom I opened it and motioned him inside.

"Put your wand away, Potter," I said evenly trying to keep my voice from sounding commanding or angry.

"What did you do to Hermione?" he demanded again refusing to put away his wand.

"I did nothing to her," I replied.

He gripped his wand tighter. "Don't lie to me. When are you ever going to be sick of tormenting us?"

"I am not at liberty to discuss what may or may not be wrong with Granger. If she is keeping things from you it is not my business, nor my problem." I folded my arms across my chest and waited for his attack.

"She was fine until you kept her after class and now she won't talk to anyone."

"If I upset her it was purely unintentional. I will not divulge a single detail of our conversation, but I will request that if you go seeking the information from her and she gives it to you, that _you_ will not hurt her." I kept my arms folded and glared at him.

To Potter's credit he did not balk, but he did lower his wand.

"You don't have to protect her from me. It's you we need to worry about," he said somewhat uncertainly.

I sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of my nose. "Potter, believe it or not, I have no personal vendetta against you or your friends. I thought my memories made it perfectly clear why I behaved the way I did. Now, if you'll excuse me I have a lot of poor excuses for exams to grade and I would like to get started."

I moved around Potter and sat at my desk. I pulled forward the stack of exams from the day and filled my favourite fountain pen with red ink. It was a pleasure being back in the familiar comfort of my classroom, with my belongings restored to me. I patently ignored Potter and waited for him to leave. When he hesitated I looked up.

"I could use someone to do the inventory in the storeroom for me if you feel like hanging around."

That startled Potter into action and he left the room.

I managed to get through the entire stack of fourth year exams and on to the seventh years before I stopped. It was late and I was tired. I was also hungry. I stood up slowly and stretched my aching back. There was a steady ripple of cracks as every vertebrae popped. I was not assigned nightly rounds yet due to my health, but I felt as fit as a fiddle despite my lack of sleep. It had been a long time since I stalked the corridors in my body and I planned to have a nice meander before I went to bed for the night.

The castle was almost deserted. It was past curfew for all but the prefects and even they only had a few minutes before returning to their dormitories. I spent a half hour wandering the halls and running into no one I could assign a detention to, but when I approached the turn just before the library I heard the unmistakeable mewling of Mrs. Norris signalling that she had found a new victim. Soon Filch would come, compelled by his strange and slightly bestial connection to his cat, but I planned to get there first.

When I turned the corner I was in full view of Mrs. Norris' lamp-like eyes and in the shadows almost leaning against the walls was Granger.

"Go away, or I'll sic Crookshanks on you," Hermione hissed back at the cat. I was so stunned and pleased to see her that I froze momentarily. Filch came barrelling down the other end of the hallway, wheezing and limping. He sounded like a bloody rhinoceros in heat, and if it wasn't for his more agile cat, would be completely inept at catching anyone about after hours. His presence carried me forward though and I arrived behind Granger just as he stopped her from the front.

"A student out of bed, you're caught now Granger," Filch simpered.

I stepped in front of Hermione and blocked her from Filch's view. "I will take care of this, Argus. Thank you."

"Yes, Professor Snape," Filch said reverently. He always had a soft spot for me. I found him and his cat to be interfering nuisances. It was cruel, but true. I admit I only used him to suit my purposes.

I turned towards Hermione as soon as he was gone. "Tsk, tsk, out after curfew already?"

"For the record, I am an apprentice; I don't have a curfew anymore."

Bollocks, I had forgotten that. She bent over to pick up her bag and a large book. I reached out and took the tome from her. It was massive book on advanced Transfiguration.

"Are you stalking me now?" she asked before I could say anything.

"If that is what it takes," I said. "Harry accosted me after dinner tonight demanding to know what I did to you."

She said nothing, but she stopped walking. "I'm sorry he did that."

"If we are to be discreet, it might benefit the both of us if you would be less open about your emotions where I am concerned." I wasn't planning on berating her for Harry's visit, but I found that it really had been eating away at me. "You will either have to trust Potter with your knowledge of me, or control yourself."

"Fine." She held out her hand for her book, but I lifted it out of her reach.

"I am not finished with you yet," I said as I went to the nearest classroom and opened the door. She refused to go in. "If you do not come in, I will not give you your book."

She stepped into the room and I shut the door neatly behind her.

"What are you doing?" she challenged.

I almost grinned, but my lips did lift at the corners. Minerva was right; this was exactly what I need to do.

"I am doing exactly as you requested and speaking to you when I want to speak to you. I waited before, but I am not waiting for tomorrow to say what I could tell you tonight," I said.

She looked intrigued and I could see her fighting to smile as well.

"There you are," she said.

"Excuse me?"

"Before, when you were a spirit, you said that part of you would always be the same, but earlier when you couldn't tell me why you didn't call for me, I thought that maybe the stronger, more aggressive part of you had died, but there it is," she smiled fully now and I couldn't help but smile back.

"Severus!" she exclaimed in surprise.

My smile faltered a little and I instantly felt self-conscious.

"You did something with your teeth?"

"I have always wanted to." There was no way I would admit that I was thinking about her when I did it. That was the type of thing that would never impress her.

"I thought you were handsome enough before, but if it makes you smile more I'll take it," she said.

"Does this mean I am finally forgiven?" I asked keeping the distress out of my voice. Acting was much more difficult now that I did not have to do it anymore.

Hermione stepped closer and reached for my hand. I took it for a moment and then I let it go opting to pull her into a hug instead. It felt like a miracle holding her in my arms as tenderly as I'd wanted to when she was grieving over her parents.

"We have to be careful, Hermione, we can't arouse too much suspicion unless you want to leave Potions, and you can't do that," I whispered into her hair.

I felt Hermione nod her head against my chest. We stood there for a few more minutes holding each other and breathing in each other's scents. She smelled like I imagined; like old books and citrus flowers. I could breathe her scent in forever and never once come up for air. I spread my fingers wide to envelop as much of her back as I could and squeeze one final time before pushing her away so that I could look at her again.

"Do you think I should tell Harry?" she asked searching my face.

I thought for a moment before replying. "I honestly don't know. We need to talk about Harry. This is awkward for me; I fear that I may bring up things that I have already spoken to you about. Forgive me in advance for my redundancy."

Hermione reached for my hand again and this time laced my fingers through hers. That small simple act was incredibly intimate and I found myself looking at her face wondering what it would be like to press my lips to her forehead, her nose, and finally her lips. I vaguely recalled an argument she had with Weasley about her sex life, and I also remembered refusing to let her explain anything to me about it. It made me wonder what her expectations of me in that department were. I remembered much more vividly undressing her and my eyes roved momentarily over her body. It would be imprudent to do too much so early in our relationship and in the year. The more involved we got, the more difficult it would be to keep our relationship a secret. She blushed under my gaze so I forced myself to look in her eyes.

"We talked about Harry, but very little and only in passing. I was the one who did most of the talking," she admitted. It was true since I was resigned to letter writing.

We must have had the same train of thought because she brought the letters up. "Do you want to read the things you wrote to me?"

"I honestly don't," I replied squeezing her hand. "Not yet anyway. I prefer getting to know you again the traditional way."

"I think I like that," she whispered resting a head on my shoulder and closing her eyes.

"It's late. Perhaps I should walk you to your dormitory." I was reluctant to leave her when things were going so well, but it was necessary.

"I would like that, too." We both stood up and slowly walked to the door.

When we exited the classroom Harry ripped off his invisibility cloaked and appeared before us. His wand was out instantly and trained on me again.

"What were you doing with her in there?" he demanded of me before turning on Hermione and saying, "I have been searching for you in the library. What were you doing with him?"

"Harry, calm down." Hermione reached out and pushed his arm down. "I'm fine."

"I was only roaming the corridors as I am wont to do and found Miss Granger exiting the library. As you so kindly pointed out this evening I had done something that upset her, I was merely apologising," it was new explaining myself to Potter, but the lost look on his face was well worth the minor blow to my ego.

"Really, Hermione?" he asked her for verification.

"Really, Harry, everything is fine," she looked from me to Harry. I had made my face blank and she took the hint. "There really is nothing left to tell. Let's go to the dormitory. Good night, Professor Snape."

I inclined my head and turned away without looking back. I was excessively relieved to have won her good favour once more and visions of what she looked like in just a bra and knickers danced in my head. I had wanted to do so much more than hold her and it was going to take an excessive strength of will to remain a gentleman, but in the privacy of my own quarters there was no such need, and when I was comfortable in bed I slipped my hand down to that throbbing place and rubbed away all the worries of the day.

* * *

**A/N: bit by bit it's going to get a little more M. I drove around a traffic rotary three times today trying to decide if I wanted to pull off and go to McDonalds. I am seriously disturbed if I have to think that hard. I didn't go because I realised it wasn't a Big Mac I was craving, but reviews! Feed me reviews so I don't go to McDonalds and clog my arteries with trans fats!!!!**


	16. Souls Meet on Lover’s Lips

Disclaimer: I am not JKR, and I can't afford to spend ten pounds right now, let alone millions, which she can do at leisure.

Chapter 16

Souls Meet on Lover's Lips

Now that Hermione and I resolved our differences I was more interested than ever in finding ways to just talk to her. She did not have potions on my second day teaching, but it was a busy day for me having four single sessions with the second, third, fifth and sixth years. The entire student body had one double class and two regular in a week, so that guaranteed I would at least to get see her without an excuse three times a week. I had no idea how busy Minerva was going to keep her with her apprentice duties, but that Tuesday Hermione seemed more rushed than usual. I was rewarded with the quick glances and small smiles I'd been hoping for when I did see her at mealtimes, but that was all the chance I had throughout the day.

I busied myself in between classes keeping up with marking the exams. My OWL and NEWT students were the only ones who required a double period to take it so I had all but the sixth years ready to grade by Tuesday evening. I had the sixth years inventory my storeroom for me, and I heard Ginny Weasley mention to one of her friends that she felt like she was in a group detention. Inventorying potions ingredients is a necessary and vital part of brewing so I didn't feel like I was out of line. I was beginning to think that Harry was corrupting the youngest Weasley's mind where I was concerned because she was not pleasant in class at all. I could have them scrubbing cauldron bottoms, after all. In the end, I took pity on them and awarded five points to each of their houses for getting the job done. That frightened them more than anything I'd probably ever done in my life. I enjoyed the element of surprise I held over the students. I could behave as my mean and snarky self and nobody would bat an eye, and then I could turn around and do something nice like any other teacher and they were floored. I didn't want to overuse one or the other, so I was going to have to take care.

I spent the entire day grading exams while the students from the next class were taking theirs so that I would be free in the evening. Whether Hermione was available or not I planned to walk outside and enjoy what looked a very fine day according to the ceiling of the Great Hall. I didn't spend much time when I was out of body wandering the grounds and therefore had no memories of it. I fancied Hagrid might be in the mood for a pint at the Hog's Head. I didn't want to go an entire day without being able to at least say hello to Hermione so I settled for writing her a short note and having it delivered along with the rest of the evening mail in the Great Hall at dinner. It was a simple note, but there was something nostalgic about writing a letter that I hoped she would appreciate. In the note I asked for her schedule so that we may discuss a question she had on transfiguration and how it was related to potions that were designed to change the shape of an object or person, such as the Polyjuice. It was a safe and realistic thing to say because at some point during her apprenticeship with Minerva, she was going to have to study that very thing, and if I knew Hermione she would be able to see it for the double entendre it was. When Hermione saw my letter she looked up at me and gave me the smallest of nods, but she did not reply right away.

After dinner on my way to Hagrid's cabin I took a stroll towards Dumbledore's tomb. My guts churned with anger as I remembered the day I let Voldemort onto the school grounds so he could desecrate the tomb and remove the Elder Wand. Waves of nausea coursed through me and I had to pause to calm myself before I moved on. I stared across the Black Lake and bit back the rage that was bubbling inside my chest. The past was the past and I would do well to remember that, but even after four months of the war being over I was finding it difficult to let go. My only comfort was that I did everything in my power to make the war as less painful as possible. When I finally reached the tomb I found somebody else there. The boy standing there with stooped shoulders and tracing the engravings of a name on the new marble obelisk erected next to Dumbledore's tomb was just one of the daily reminders that I couldn't do enough.

I was about to move on and let him be when something compelled me to approach him. I thought perhaps I could help him. He did not hear me, so lost in thought he was; therefore I startled him when I spoke.

"It is getting late, Mr. Creevey," I said as gently as I could, but he still jumped in fright and turned around. The large camera hanging round his chest thumped against him causing him to wince and rub the spot where it landed. "I did not mean to frighten you."

I took the last few steps to the small monument and read through the names myself. They were all listed regardless of what side they fought on, the dead representatives from each house. They were listed in alphabetical order and I could see what Denis was looking at. Colin Creevey's name was listed just below Vincent Crabbe's. I was not sure if I was upset to see Creevey's name listed directly below someone who fought against him or not. They were both victims of the war, but a part of me felt that the monument was tainted by listing the one student who died that supported Voldemort. I am still not sure how I feel about that.

"I was not even allowed to come to school last year because I am a Muggleborn," Denis said without taking his eyes off the monument.

"Yet you still returned to fight," I said looking down on him. His face was haunted with the ghosts that only witnessing death could leave behind.

Denis looked up at me and boldly looked directly in my eyes. "Did you have anything to do with keeping the Muggleborns out?"

I returned his gaze searching for fear or loathing in his eyes, but I saw neither, just a genuine desire to understand.

"No, I did not. I was not in the position to argue for them either, unfortunately," I supplied.

"Everybody keeps talking about how they knew all along that you were a spy, but nobody really knew which side you were on."

"You are right, nobody really knew. Not even Voldemort. That is the unfortunate side effect of espionage, Mr. Creevey. Not even your employers know what side you are on. It is a terrible position to be in." I surprised us both with my admission.

"Whose side are you on now?"

I never really tried to answer that question before. There was an entire spectrum of grey between what was right or wrong, the good side and the bad side, that it was impossible to definitively know who I was fighting for. But as the boy gazed up at me waiting for me to remind him that not everyone is always evil I found myself saying the first scrupulous thought that entered my head.

"My own, Mr. Creevey," I said. "Until such time that my freedom to enjoy life is threatened, and then I will fight for it again."

He seemed only partially satisfied with my response.

"I am not prejudiced Mr. Creevey."

"I didn't say you were," he replied eyes wide.

"I could sense you were thinking it. You need to get back inside the castle. The sun is going down."

"I'm not a kid anymore," he said almost obstinately.

I took a step closer to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. He flinched, but did not move. It was a gesture I'd offered many Slytherins over the years, if only anyone knew how I regretted having to favour them.

"No, you are not," I assured him. "But you are a student here, a most welcome student, and you need to follow the school rules. War does not change the mundane aspects of life, only how we feel about them."

"Yes sir," he said quietly. I withdrew my hand and began to walk away giving him the benefit of the doubt that he would return to the castle.

"Professor!" he called after me, and I turned around. He was holding up Colin's old camera.

"My I take a picture?"

I found myself nodding and he snapped the picture before I could affect any sort of pose. It took a talent to obtain permission yet make the picture appear candid at the same time. The light from the flashbulb temporarily blinded me and when I could see clearly again, Mr. Creevey was walking back up to the castle.

I was hoping to help him come to terms with his loss, but he returned the favour without realising it. We all coped differently and I had chosen to waffle in my decisions, and feel sorry for myself. I was walking around expecting everyone to hate me like they did when I was a spy. I was beginning to understand that while there was some resentment, they all wanted to understand, and Mr. Creevey was courageous enough to ask. I was being truthful when I said that I was on my own side. My goals were the same as everyone else's, to find contentment and love. It seemed like such a simple agenda, but it was one that people died to protect, and even in the throes of a brutal war, always won. If anyone doubted that, all they had to do was witness Lucius Malfoy shedding a tear over the love of his life. War may have ruined him, but his love would remain his salvation until he could be reunited with his family. My thoughts drifted to Hermione and the mysterious dominion one soul could have over another.

I thought of turning back and returning to the castle, but then I saw the outline of Hagrid in his window as he manoeuvred his bearlike frame around the small cabin. It was not solitude I desired, but company, the company of Hermione would have been ideal, but there was more to my rehabilitation than just her. Creevey's question sounded through my head again and I considered the possibility of rethinking my answer, but it remained the same. I could fight to save my own life, but that did not imply I had to do it alone.

Three sharp raps on the cabin door, and Fang was shaking the house with his booming barks. I would never understand people and their pets. Hagrid threw open his doors and stepped back in surprise when he saw me.

"Professor Snape!" We never did get to the point of first names. "Do you need somethin' for your potions class?"

"No, the pleasure of your company is all that I require," I replied offering a weak smile. It was a gesture that felt foreign on my face and I knew it would be some time before it became natural.

"Uh, well, right. Come in then," Hagrid stammered opening the door wide for me to enter.

Now that I was there I was at a loss as to what to say. I was about to suggest asking him to accompany me to Hogsmeade before he produced a large bottle of Old Ogden's and two glasses. I sighed with relief and we both remained silent until we had both relished the first drink. I delighted in the burn as the liquor coursed through my body and warmed my veins.

"Thank you," I said after taking another sip.

We remained in a somewhat uncomfortable silence until Hagrid finally cleared his throat and spoke.

"How was yer first couple of days back? All right?"

"They've gone surprisingly well," I replied draining my glass. He refilled it quickly and I nodded my appreciation. I was not much of a drinker of hard liquor because it interfered with my ability to keep my mental shields in place, so I knew that one more glass was all I should accept. Then I remembered that I had no reason to keep my shields in place and got instantly annoyed with myself.

"Something the matter, Professor?" Hagrid asked uncomfortably.

"No," I said forcing myself to smile. "I am quite all right."

Hagrid finished his second glass made a sort of grunting noise as if he did not believe me, but knew better than to pry.

"I was just about to refuse any more whiskey when I remembered that I had no place to go," I admitted.

Understanding dawned on his face. "You did the right thing, even though it was hard."

"I found the spying to be disturbingly easy," I replied. I was spending a considerable amount of time talking about my past that day and I wondered how many different times I would have to tell the tale.

"You were tortured," Hagrid continued his voice wobbling.

I did not deny it. I had the scars to prove it.

"Dumbledore had so many secrets, but he was never wrong," Hagrid continued throwing back another glass of whiskey. I continued to nurse my second. I was not in favour of the direction our conversation had turned, but it was cathartic for Hagrid to let it out and admittedly therapeutic for myself as well, even if I was not pleased.

"He was wrong sometimes." I fought to keep the bitterness out of my voice, but was unsuccessful.

Hagrid worked his mouth a few times as if unable to articulate his response. After a moment he finally muttered. "Potter said that you made an Unbreakable Vow to kill Dumbledore if Malfoy couldn't do it."

I nodded curtly.

"If Dumbledore hadn't cursed himself with that ring, would you have fulfilled the vow?"

I stared dumbfounded at the bluntness of his question. "No," I replied. "And he knew that."

Hagrid let out a great shaking breath, the effects of the alcohol showing in his rosy cheeks and moist eyes. The broken capillaries on his nose were prominent and I thought perhaps it was time to stop enabling Hagrid. "You would've died a hero no matter what then. The truth was bound ter come out. I'm just chuffed yer alive to see it."

I was too, but I did not know what else to say. Carefully keeping my face blank I thanked Hagrid for the drink and excused myself. I was bone weary from the day and opted out of prowling the halls, particularly near the library, and went straight to bed. Despite the inner turmoil that I was feeling regarding my part in the war I slept soundly.

The next morning I awoke before dawn and enjoyed a long hot shower. It was becoming easier for me to move around without becoming sore and I believed that my body was fully recovered. I expected with time I would feel healthier than I ever had. It had literally been years since I was free of mental and physical pain and the effects were immediate, and extremely welcome.

I used the waning night time hours before breakfast to finish grading the last of the exams I had not gotten to yet. Hermione had nearly filled out the entire test booklet and her answers were almost all correct. She answered a few questions that I had not even covered in any classes yet fairly accurately as well. I was of course impressed with her ability to learn, but wanted her to understand the other nuances of learning that made for a well-rounded education. At the end of her exam I wrote 'See me' in my usual spiky lettering. I finished with the last exam just in time for breakfast and made my way to the Great Hall happy that I would see Hermione soon. I was preoccupied with wondering how I was going to fill the time I could not be with her because my responsibilities had been considerably shortened and did not notice the few Aurors and Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt waiting outside my office.

The acrid taste of fear filled my mouth and I stood stock still staring them down until one of them made a move. If they were here to haul me off to Azkaban I was not going to let them magically bind me beforehand. I would walk out of that school with my held high.

Before any of us could act or speak, Minerva came bounding down the corridor her robes flying out behind. She moved with the agility and grace of a cat even in her age. She truly was a formidable fighter and remembered briefly the one time I had to duel her. I had no desire to do it again, and was grateful she was there in my defence for once.

"Minister, this is highly inappropriate. I was told he would receive a summons from the Ministry, not be accosted by the Auror department!" Minerva stated as she approached.

Kingsley lifted his hands in supplication. "No one is being accosted, Minerva, but this is bad business. The public wants a statement and we are here to get it."

"Then what is with the cavalry?" Minerva gestured to the two Aurors I did not recognise. I took a step towards Minerva, but remained silent.

"They are here to take his statement, and only Aurors are authorised to administer Veritaserum, Minerva. I am sure you understand," Kingsley said authoritatively.

I finally stepped forward. "I am not under arrest?"

"No, we have enough testimony to keep you out of prison. The only one we are missing is yours," Kingsley replied. If they were not going to arrest me, then why were they here before breakfast?

Minerva agreed. "Well, your timing is highly irregular. A warning would have been nice. Severus has lessons to attend to today."

"That is all very well, Minerva." Kingsley motioned for his companions to follow him and he led the way towards the Great Hall. "We will be staying for the day then just to visit. It is a precaution to ease the minds of worried parents."

Minerva pursed her lips and I frowned in annoyance. I was not a danger to the school and every one of them knew it. I was unable to keep from voicing my thoughts.

"My, my, Minister," I drawled. "I never believed you would be the type to pander to the public. I suppose posturing is a required duty of the office?"

I could feel the Minister bristling at my words and his already dark skin flushed even darker. "You do know that I do not like this any more than you do. I have always held this institution in the highest regard, and I am only protecting the interests of those who attend here. A statement is all that we require."

We had just reached the staff entrance to the Great Hall and it was still fortunately empty. I put a hand on Kingsley's arm and pulled him back to prevent him entering. His bodyguards drew their wands and flanked him. Kingsley raised a hand to stop them and stepped away so that we could speak in confidence.

"What happens if something comes up while I am under Veritaserum that I have not already been pardoned for?" I demanded. "I will not be thrown into prison, nor will I be your poster child for a reformed Death Eater. Any statements I give will be for Ministry record and nothing else. I do not wish to see my words and actions displayed across the pages of every media outlet that exists in our world."

"Did you kill anyone else? Did you harm any students yourself?" Kingsley hissed his face directly in front of mine. "I have always supported Dumbledore's decisions and trusted his judgement, and by proxy you. We are recovering from a war for god's sake and I am in a difficult position of sacrificing my own integrity to question yours. Understand that you are in no position to make demands and I am in no position to honour them."

Kingsley took a step back and straightened his robe. "I understand how appalling revealing your secrets is going to be, and I understand your fears. You will be protected from the retaliation of any of Voldemort's supporters to the best of our abilities, and unless something happened that we do not know about, you are not at risk of arrest. There are important figures in our world that would that would fight to keep you out, and those people are here in this school with you. You are extremely lucky. So, unless you have something else to hide, I suggest you cooperate."

"I have nothing else to hide. I will answer your questions without Veritaserum." It was hopeless to wish it, but I had to try. The thought of being forced to reveal my secrets without control over my own thoughts brought bile to my throat.

"You know I cannot allow that. I expect you in the Headmistress's office directly after your last class today." With that Kingsley stepped through the doorway to eat his breakfast.

Minerva patted me on the arm and gave me a sympathetic look before following him. I had completely lost my appetite, but knew that if I skipped breakfast I would miss an opportunity to see Hermione. By the time I had recovered myself enough to enter, the Great Hall it was almost full of students. They were muttering and gesturing towards the head table and the Minister. I was not self-involved enough to assume that they immediately connected the presence of Aurors to myself, but neither was a naive enough to believe that none of them had put two and two together. Many of these students were the children of concerned parents after all.

I noticed Harry keeping a firm eye on Shacklebolt. I always thought Harry and the Minister got on pretty well together, so I was surprised to see him looking at him with an expression that bordered distrust. Hermione was sitting next to Harry as beautiful as always, worry etched into her features, she looked in my direction questioningly and all I could do was return her gaze with a blank face. As soon as I summoned the appetite to serve myself some eggs an owl swooped onto my plate scattering them everywhere. I looked up in annoyance and saw Granger blush and quickly turn to her food.

The letter was from her and I took it eagerly instantly forgiving the owl for ruining a breakfast that I was likely not going to eat anyway. I picked up my cup of coffee and excused myself from the table and went down to my office. Hermione's letter was as simple as mine had been. She had thanked me for offering her help and then copied her entire schedule onto the page. She added a note on the bottom saying that she'd had to give up a few classes in order to make room for teaching first and second year Transfiguration along with Minerva. Her schedule was indeed much fuller than mine, but she did have nothing blocked out on Monday's after her last class, and on Thursdays we both had the same free period. Perhaps we could use that time for special tutoring. Even with her reduced course load, the addition of a transfiguration apprenticeship and NEWTs revision were going to keep her very busy. I wondered how we were ever going to find time together, and maintaining a slow pace in our relationship appeared as inevitable as it did necessary.

I spent the first few hours of the day staring down students who were talking in class about the Minister's appearance at the school. The younger children were in awe at his presence and more enamoured with the fact that he was there than concerned at what it might mean. I silenced them with a look and managed to get through the morning without any incident. I was tempted to take my midday meal in my office, but a sharp and admonishing note from Minerva stated the importance of my presence in the Great Hall. She was correct, of course. It would be impossible to demonstrate how benign my presence was at the school if the Minister did not have plenty of opportunity to see me amongst the students.

I arrived for lunch a few minutes late and opted for boldly going through the main entrance and walking across the Great Hall to my seat. The action did not go unnoticed and I felt the familiar power that I used to have as my robes billowed behind me. All eyes were on me as I sat, but still after three days, there was no real malevolence to note. Even the Slytherins who might have felt betrayed for me were lying low, and I wondered how long it would be before the security I was feeling unravelled. It was certainly to begin when I was questioned that evening.

The students turned the heads back towards their plates as I passed to avoid contact and Harry and Ron were no exception. Hermione let her eyes linger on mine and I softened my expression for a moment just for her. She kept her head held high, offered me a timid smile and returned to her meal. Under the cover of a billowing sleeve I stretched my hand out just enough to brush it along her back unnoticed. I felt her stiffen and then relax as I passed by.

Despite my mood, I was famished and managed to eat an entire serving of chicken pie and a side of mixed vegetables before I left without speaking to anyone and returned to my office. There was still twenty minutes before class was to begin, but it was the last class before I was to be interrogated and nerves were on edge.

I had only just sat down at my desk when there was a knock on my office door.

"Come in," I said forcing myself to sound neutral in fear that it was the Minister.

Hermione poked her head through the door instead and I immediately went to her, pulled her in, and shut the door. It was wonderful to see her and I pulled her into my arms revelling in her softness. She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed back before reluctantly pushing me away.

"Severus, I have to know. Is the Minister here because of you?" she asked getting right to the point.

I nodded. "Yes. They are here to question me under Veritaserum so that the Ministry can have a private account of my actions during the war. I am to do it directly after class."

Hermione's brown eyes saddened. "I'm sorry you're going to have to go through this, but it was coming wasn't it? Minerva got a lot of mail about you when she announced that you were going to return to teach. Give them what they want and then forget about it, Severus. You can't expect to go your whole life and not have to say something."

I reached out for hand and sighed. "I know."

"I understand it is difficult for you. Is there anything I can do?" she asked.

"No," I said resigned. "You are correct, I should be glad to just get it over with. Please don't think badly of me if any of these things reach the papers."

Hermione stretched out her hand and touched my cheek. It was such a small touch, but it left my heart racing and my body begging for more. I took her hand and cupped it so that I could kiss her palm. She was flushed and I released her immediately and stepped back from her. I opened the door to the thankfully still empty classroom and stepped into it. Hermione took a ragged breath and followed me out of the office still blushing.

"I could never think badly of you for anything that happened. I may have difficulty understanding some things, but I would never think badly," she replied honestly and quickly.

"Will you meet me here during your free period on Thursday?" I asked before anyone could arrive.

"Yes, gladly."

"Good." I went to sit at the teacher's desk in the classroom and she walked over to the one she usually occupied.

"Professor," she asked a saucy smile playing on her lips clearly enjoying using my title.

"Hmm?" I responded expecting her to continue with something flirtatious, but this was Granger we were talking about, I should have known better.

"Are you really going to start tutoring me in transfigurative potions?" her eyes were bright.

I could not help but laugh and she beamed in return. "It is a little soon in the year for that, but if you want to begin already we can."

Despite Hermione's sympathy for my having to submit to Veritaserum later she was in her usual self. The fact that she was my girlfriend of sorts seemed to fall right out of her mind and she resorted to her typical know-it-all behaviours in class. In the past I saw it as impossibly annoying and bossy, and still did, but I was reminded that I wanted to help her. She was still quick to answer every question and helped Ron with the beginnings of the potion I asked them to brew.

"Work on your own potions," I said to the class at large and Hermione stepped back from her friend immediately blushing brightly. Weasley was never going to earn the marks he needed to pass Auror training if he did not learn how to think for himself. That was the premise I would use when I discussed Hermione's bossiness in class. It was a little too late to really change things for her as a student, but she needed to get in the habit of allowing other people to provide answers. I feared as a teacher she would not give the students a chance to speak and inhibit their ability to demonstrate their knowledge through healthy classroom debate. As honour-bound as I felt in helping her in that area I was not looking forward to hurting her feelings. Perhaps Minerva would be the person to consult before I said anything. She was in charge of Hermione after all, and it was likely she had similar concerns.

Thoughts of what to do about Hermione were effective in distracting me from the evening ahead and I had completely forgotten the 'see me' I had written on her exam until she approached my desk after the last bell.

"Sir?" she asked holding it up for me to see.

I waited for the last student to leave before I said anything. Harry lingered at the door for a moment, but Hermione nodded him on, showing the exam and shrugging.

"I didn't really need to see you about the exam," I said gathering the stack of essays they had all just turned in and locking them in a drawer. "I just didn't know when I would be able to talk with you next. I wrote that before I knew what I was going to do tonight, so unfortunately I have to go."

"I will be in the library until about ten o'clock tonight if you need anything," she said before turning and leaving the classroom.

I flooed straight into Minerva's office. She was sitting behind her desk, her face pinched in agitation. Kingsley was sitting in a chair near hers looking comfortable. One of the Auror's had a pad of parchment and a quill ready while the other held a vial of Veritaserum. They were ready for me.

"Minerva?" I asked.

"I am staying to witness on your behalf. I will be recording everything you say and comparing my notes to theirs," she replied sternly.

My heart literally swelled with gratitude and I could have cried for the confidence she was showing in me.

I settled myself into the uncomfortable chair that was sitting empty and obediently took the three drops of potion that were offered me. The effects were instantaneous and all control over what I said was lost. One unfortunate side effect of Veritaserum is that it is impossible to know what it is said, but three hours later as I was leaving the office I felt as if I had been turned inside out. I may not have been able to remember the things told them, but the emotional effects of it lingered in my subconscious and I felt quite depressed. I did remain in the room long enough to see Minerva verify that her notes were matched to the Aurors' and she seemed satisfied. Her face, along with Kingsley's betrayed their own distress over whatever it was that I said, but they made no move to detain me. I was safe for the present.

I wanted to see Hermione right away. It was completely disconcerting to feel the hurt from reliving my past and not know what specific memories triggered which emotions. I had no desire to revisit it again with my awareness unimpaired, but I did need to find some sort of solace. Pride kept my from seeking it where I wanted it most so I went to my office and forced myself to eat some soup and attempted to grade the seventh year essays, but I could not get past Hermione's. The depression was lingering and it was comfort I wanted, not distractions. I still had two hours before Hermione said she would no longer be in the library so I put aside the work, and my pride, and left to seek her out.

She was sitting alone in the quiet library at a table in a secluded area by the restricted section. There were books spread out around her, and she was writing furiously on a sheaf of parchment. I approached her from the opposite side of table and she jumped when she saw me.

"Oh, damn," she exclaimed as she spilled her ink. I quickly pulled out my wand and cleaned the mess for her.

"You have to stop sneaking up on me," she whispered.

"I am not trying to be sneaky," I replied trying to sound cheerful.

She looked at me with concern. "Are you all right?"

"Meet me in the room of requirement in ten minutes," I said desperately wanting to be alone with her.

She shook her head, "It's lost, it was destroyed by fiendfyre during the last battle."

My heart plummeted even further. I loved that room. "Was that something I should remember?"

"No," she replied. "I can tell you about it, though."

"Maybe some other time," I was beginning to get angry that we could not just walk down to my quarters together and visit like normal people, and my mood was dampened even further at the mention that fiendfyre destroyed the Room of Requirement. Fiendfyre was on the syllabus last year and I wondered what hapless student had actually managed to create it, but I didn't want to know right then. I was upset enough. "I will leave you to your studies."

"Wait, Severus," she hissed bravely using my surname where the tightly wound librarian could hear. "Give me twenty minutes and I will be in your office."

I was going to argue at first, but then simply nodded and left. I would vouch for her if she ran into any trouble tonight, and then we would have come up with another solution for the future.

When Hermione arrived at my office, I led her to the door leading into my private quarters. She looked around with wonder at my simple, but comfortable sitting room. I could see her wanting to go to the bookshelves, but she turned her attention towards me.

"I probably should not have brought you here, it is improper," I said.

"You are always such a gentleman. I wish you wouldn't be sometimes." She reached for me and I pulled her into my arms. "It was that bad, huh?"

I nodded against her head not willing, nor able to hide how I was feeling. "I hate Veritaserum."

"Because you can't remember why you are upset, right?" Hermione whispered into my chest.

I pushed her away so that I could look at her. "I am so glad you are the best in your year sometimes."

She smiled at that. "Being a know-it-all does have its uses. Is there anything I can do?"

I looked down into her eyes and saw so much sincerity and love there that I literally felt weak in the knees. I nodded my head yes.

"What?" she whispered.

"Kiss me."

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for all your reviews! They are helping immensely. Transfigurative is my word, I made it up. I also took liberties with Veritaserum since we don't a whole lot about it. **


	17. A Gentleman Is A Patient Wolf

Disclaimer: I tried to Polyjuice myself into JKR, but I grabbed the wrong hair, yeesh.

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 17

A Gentleman Is A Patient Wolf

"Severus!" There was a knock accompanied by Kingsley Shacklebolt's slow drawl coming from the corridor entrance to my private sitting room. Hermione stood with her face inches from mine, lips parted slightly, ready to kiss me, but I pushed her through the office entrance to my quarters instead.

"Use a Disillusionment Charm," I hissed quietly before gently shutting that door and striding to the other one. I was equal parts mortified that I had actually said the words 'kiss me' and irritated that we got interrupted just before I was going to do it anyway. I was already in a foul mood and the only hope of it getting better was jammed into my office under a Disillusionment Charm.

I hurled the door open sneering to the best of my capabilities. Seeing Minerva standing next to Kingsley wringing her hands concern etched into every crevice of her face did nothing to alleviate my agitation.

"To what do I owe the displeasure?" I snarled filling the doorway as much as I could with my tall but nearly emaciated frame. Kingsley's goons were nowhere to be seen.

Not even Minerva had an adroit response for my less than warm welcome. Kingsley lifted his hands in that longsuffering gesture of surrender of his and forced his face into a smile.

"May we come in?" he asked in a placating tone. I knew already that denying them entrance would be futile, but cordiality was the last item on my agenda that evening.

"I am not in the mood for company this evening, but thank you for calling," I responded acerbically.

Minerva's frown deepened, Kingsley's smirk set my teeth on edge.

"Please, Severus," she said gravely.

I imagined Hermione in my office with her disillusioned ear pressed up against the door hanging on to every word. Whatever was about to happen, I was sure I did not want her to witness it. I heaved out a longsuffering sigh and stepped dramatically behind the door to allow them entrance. Under the guise of my theatrics I covertly flung a silencing spell on the office door. Hermione may not like it, but she would get the point.

Undetermined to play the gracious host I turned to face my guests and folded my arms over my chest. I offered neither chairs nor tea and stood there in silence until they took it upon themselves to make themselves comfortable. I felt a twinge of regret for treating Minerva in such a way, but it did not extend beyond her the two feet it would have taken to reach Kingsley. I did not dislike the man, but I despised politicians and the way they bandied about rhetoric until their ears bled and their throats were raw, achieving nothing but factious rivalries and useless legislation. I feared it would not be wrong until Kingsley fell into that mould, and until he proved otherwise I was prepared to swallow his bull only with a healthy side of scepticism.

"It has been a long and difficult day," Kingsley began prophetically. "You have provided us with an account of the last year unlike what we expected."

My arms tightened across my chest. I could feel the skin on my hands tightening as I dug my fingernails into my palms. The interrogation was to never end.

"Naturally I cannot agree or disagree being unprivileged to my own responses," I growled. Minerva looked at me sympathetically. I glanced back at her and something in her eyes was begging me to cooperate.

Kingsley procured a small vial from inside the voluminous folds of his robes. He was the only wizard alive that gave Dumbledore a run for his money where flamboyancy was concerned.

"This is my memory of the interrogation." He held the bottle out for me to step forward and take, but I pointedly ignored the gesture. After a moment he tossed it lightly in his hand and set it on the table as if that was what he intended to do all along.

"Why are you here?" I asked staring down Kingsley.

Minerva took pity on the Minister and spoke next.

"Severus, we just wanted to assure that you were all right. I didn't know, that is to say, none of us knew that..." she stopped talking as if ashamed to admit what was on her mind.

"Know what?"

She swallowed nervously. "That you cared enough to remember."

"Remember _what_?" I hissed.

"Every student," Kingsley answered for her. "The Ministry has been under the impression that you took on the post of Headmaster merely to stay associated with Dumbledore so that you could continue spying for the Order whether they knew it or not."

"That would be all that would occur to you," I snapped. "If I did not the Carrows would have killed half the student body with their stupidity. What else was I to do?"

"I am here to thank you personally, Severus," Kingsley rose to his feet and held out a hand. "For protecting the students to the best of your ability last year. There were signs that you were protecting them, such as when the office was broken into for the Sword of Gryffindor. A detention with Hagrid was not exactly a punishment."

I did not shake his hand, but instead interrupted them. "I do not want thanks for anything. The welfare of this school has always been my utmost priority. Without it I would not have been able to play my part so well, and I am failing to find the point in your visit."

"You're right," Kingsley said defeated. "Look at your memory so that you remember what you said before it hits the papers. You implicated many people that have not been captured yet so take care that you remain safe. Some of the people you named have children in this school. I will do my best to keep your interview confidential; however the Daily Prophet has already been notified that you did give a statement. I will give my own public address assuring the concerned parents of the safety of their children, but I believe we have nothing to fear from you. It was not you they were afraid of last year in the first place."

I did not know what to say to that. In hindsight I could see that he was correct. The students were quite courageous in openly defying me and I was proud, my only crime was that I had little time to exact my own brand of punishment and was forced to send them off to the Carrows. That icy grip of shame and regret squeezed at my insides again. I hurt children, and they were prepared to forgive me for it.

"It would have been worse if I wasn't here," I said quietly to myself for reassurance.

Minerva reached out and laid a cold hand on my cheek. "That is for certain."

I didn't even realise I had spoken out loud.

"The children will understand. We all do," Kingsley said. "I will visit again soon."

Minerva lingered for a moment before following Kingsley out the door.

"Why do I feel like that is not why he came down here?" I asked her.

"He is trying to get on your good side, Severus. You are a powerful wizard and Dumbledore's only confidante, which puts you in a position of overwhelming leverage with the Ministry. Once time passes and people forget your crimes and remember you as their protector the world will be at your fingertips. Resentment builds slowly and it takes twice as long to disappear, so give it time. Look at the memory if you must, but do not let it linger." She patted my arm and closed the door behind her.

I stared at the tiny vial of memories sitting on the table. It always came down to memories. It was not what we predicted or anticipated that drove our behaviour, but what remembered of similar events in the past. It was not until we forgot that we started making mistakes. The sinking depression I'd felt earlier was all the memory I would need not to make the same mistakes again. I picked up the tiny vial and wondered what I could have said that would have made Minerva look at me so uncomfortably yet so sympathetically. She was not an emotional person, but her eyes were still moist with the pain of what I had revealed earlier.

I went to my bedroom and heaved out my own personal Pensieve and set it on the small table where the memories were sitting just moments before. Finally, I went to the office door and opened it. Hermione immediately revealed herself and moved forward quickly, but stopped when she saw my face. A flash of fear crossed her expression. I attempted to calm myself and just held out a hand for her. She slowly stepped forward to take it.

"I thought you would leave," I said not forgetting the silencing charm.

"I probably should have," she responded. "The silencing charm surprised me. Is everything all right? Are you in trouble?"

"No," I said finally letting the perplexity of the situation sink in. The Minister's visit made no sense. "But the meeting left me feeling a despair that I hadn't felt in a very long time. I am afraid I may have acted inappropriately with you in order to distract myself." My lips tingled from the kiss that did not happen.

"It is perfectly natural to seek comfort from those you care about, Severus," Hermione said sagely. "You have spent too much time alone. What are we doing?"

We had reached the Pensieve and I opened the stopper on the vial and dumped the silvery substance, not quite liquid, not quite air, inside.

"We are going to look. You first."

Hermione looked at me uncertainly and then she stopped herself from smiling widely. It seemed that anytime I shared something private with her she took it as an immense compliment. She was a smart girl.

Hermione stood next to me her hand gripping mine as she watched the beginning of the interrogation. The first hour consisted of the typical questions regarding my spy status, who I was loyal to during the war, my involvement in Dumbledore's murder, who else worked with me, and whether or not I killed anyone else. I did not even fight in the Final Battle except to get myself out to find Potter and Voldemort, so the answers to that question was no.

Finally the questioning turned towards my behaviour as headmaster.

"Did you personally use any spells designed to cause injury and pain on any student?"

"No."

"Were you under orders to authorise Amycus and Alecto Carrow to commit said acts on students under your care?"

"Yes."

"By whom?"

"Albus Dumbledore."

The Auror sat back in surprise and Minerva gasped.

"Not Lord V-Voldemort?"

"Him as well."

"What was Albus Dumbledore's involvement?"

"He made me swear not to interfere with the Dark's Lord's plan so as not to give myself away."

"Were you concerned for the safety of the students?"

"Yes."

"Please describe the nature of the crimes you overlooked."

I then spent the next two hours describing every detention and injury each student had to suffer under the supervision of the Carrows and the older Slytherins. Not one bruise, bump, or skipped meal was omitted from my testimony. In my memory I was calm and oblivious to the distress of the others around me thanks to the Veritaserum, but Kingsley looked ashen, Minerva was weeping, and in real time so was I. I watched myself list off the details of every hurt student with tears running down my own face finally understanding the overburdening depression that had engulfed me. Hermione stood next to me gripping my hand, her face white, not looking at me once. She wasn't there the last year and she really didn't know how bad it was. I envied her ability to remain stoic. Something in my gut clenched when I thought that she might not forgive me for letting these things happen. I could not forgive myself, why should she?

"Did you ever defy Albus' orders and ask V-Voldemort to take the Carrows away for fear they were going too far?"

"Yes."

"What did he say?"

"Nothing, he does not speak when he disagrees, he tortures."

When it was over Hermione left the Pensieve first. I hastily wiped the tears from my face and followed.

She was sitting in my favourite chair when I re-emerged still as a statue. I was afraid of her in that moment. All the judgement in the world could never compare to one condemning word from the lips of the woman I loved. I waited in agony for her to speak. When she did it was not what I was expecting to hear.

"You have to forgive yourself, Severus."

"I know," I whispered in relief. "I can't."

"I need you to forgive yourself," she said earnestly standing up and approaching me. "If you harden your heart against yourself, you will never learn how to forgive and love others. It is a lesson I have been watching Harry try to learn as well. It is too easy to shut it all out and remain alone."

"You sound as if you speak from experience," I said gently wanting to reach out and help her too.

"I did not escape unscathed. I have my own scars." She rubbed her chest absentmindedly.

"I don't remember them," I blurted having a sudden vision of Hermione in her bra and panties. In my memory her skin was perfect.

"They are everywhere," she said holding out her hands. On the backs I could see white lines from her lines with Umbridge, and the mottled skin of poorly healed burns. "But it is the ones that you can't see that take the longest to heal. I can only do so much; the rest is up to you."

"Don't leave me," I begged. I did not care how I sounded or that the tears were threatening to fall again. I pulled Hermione out of the chair and wrapped my long arms around her and pulled her tight against me. I could not get her close enough, the clothes between us felt like a chasm of distance.

"I could never leave you," she mumbled against me. I could feel the fabric of my shirt getting wet with her tears. "I could never leave you because I love you."

"You can still love me after all you have seen?" I asked her hair. She pulled back and looked into my eyes. I could see her love but it was thinly veiled by exasperation and amusement. I opened my mouth to speak again, but she shushed me with a finger on my lips.

"Don't. I don't want to hear a word. I only have so much patience with self-pity. You asked me not to pity you and I don't, but you pity yourself and that is pathetic. You are such an amazing man I only need to know a sixteenth of you to be absolutely positive that I want to be with you. I am throwing myself at you terrified that you are going to reject _me_, but it's not me you would reject is it?" she said heatedly, I could see her temper rising as the colour rose in her cheeks.

"No," I admitted loudly. "No, it wouldn't be you. It would be Lily and Albus, and the Marauders and every person that has hurt me in the past. Clearly I am not as mature as you, Hermione and I need more time to come to grips with the things I have done."

"Okay," she said actually laughing. "Just don't expect me to go anywhere while you figure it out. Believe it or not, I think you are on your way."

I stepped away from her and flopped ungracefully into the chair I had just pulled her from. The small clock on my mantel dinged quietly and I looked up. It was one in the morning and the night was shot to hell. Hermione still looked amused and I did my best to frown at her, but I couldn't help but smile on the inside. I _would_ figure myself out, and I wouldn't have to do it alone.

"I should walk you to your dorm," I said. "It was wrong of me to keep you out this late."

"I suppose," Hermione said before stepping up to me and taking my hand. She pulled me out of my seat and wrapped her arms around me. "I really do care about you."

I bent down and pressed my lips to her forehead. "I know."

I don't know why I didn't reciprocate the sentiment, but she seemed to understand and did not say anything or appear upset. I wanted to kiss her on the mouth just like I had planned to earlier, but I meant it when I said that I was seeking the wrong kind of comfort for her. It would have been different if that was where we were already, but I wanted to steal first kisses and caresses in the heat of passion not pain. Her presence was my comfort; her body would be a gift.

We both Disillusioned ourselves and held hands all the way to the Gryffindor tower. We ran into no one, thankfully, and I stood outside the entrance to the tower for some time before I could bring myself to turn around and walk away.

The next day there was nothing in the paper yet about what I'd said. Perhaps Kingsley had been true to his word and was attempting to exercise his influence at the Prophet. I was relieved, beginning to care less. Hermione's words about me being the one who really needed to move on had sunk in. I would deal with things as they came, and unless Voldemort had hoodwinked us again and returned to torture me again, there was nothing to fear.

Minerva was shocked to see me in such a good mood when I arrived at the breakfast table.

"You're eating," she remarked.

"Typical behaviour when one sits at a dining table full of food," I replied.

She frowned at me and knitted her eyebrows together. "I take it you did not visit the Pensieve then?"

"Oh, I did," I said taking a large bit of my crumpet to avoid saying more. She was not going to let it go.

"If I knew this is how you would react I would have looked at them with you."

"This is not how I reacted. I reacted last night, this is this morning and you are ruining my breakfast with your pestering comments." Hermione arrived in the Great Hall with Harry and I did the one thing that I swore I would never do in front of the whole student body. I smiled at her. I completely lost my head and opened my mouth in a big toothy grin, and Hermione started to smile back, but Harry looked at me first and then turned his penetrating gaze on her. She abruptly pulled her face into neutral and shrugged at her friend. Fortunately for me, Minerva was still whispering in my ear so I could pull it off that I was smiling at something she'd said, but the damage was done. I had smiled in public.

"Severus," Minerva said warningly, "please don't tell me the reason you are in a good mood is because you and Granger did you know what!"

I smirked this time, which was more familiar and less shocking. I turned to look Minerva directly in the eyes. Fear that I had defiled her beloved Gryffindor princess was evident.

"Did what Minerva?" I asked conspiratorially. "Did we copulate, fornicate, shag, or otherwise pleasure each other?"

Minerva turned a shade of purple that I admired and began to choke on her eggs.

"No, of course not," I said more seriously. "What do you take me for? And why are we discussing this here of all places? Do you honestly think I would want to tell you if we did?"

Minerva wiped her mouth and set down her silverware. "Come with me."

I did as I was told and followed her to her office. The Headmasters and Headmistresses on the walls feigned sleep except for Phineas and Dumbledore who both nodded at me. I nodded back half annoyed and half amused at the sexual education lecture I was about to receive.

"I realise we have not had this discussion since you have returned to your body so perhaps you have forgotten, Severus, but you must be careful. While you have my blessing she is still as student this year," Minerva said. "A very inexperienced student."

"What?" Although I wasn't sure which part I was responding to. "I do remember this discussion, I don't need your blessing, and how would you know how experienced she is or isn't?"

I couldn't imagine Hermione and Minerva sitting together talking like school girls.

"She does not have a mother anymore, Severus. Who do you think she came to with her feelings for you after she showed me you were still with us? Who else was she to go to?"

I felt like a fool. I was perfectly content to keep my feelings a secret and had more of a reason to keep my sexual history to myself because of my age. She probably needed a confidante.

"Don't act like you don't need anyone to talk to either, Severus. Since when have you ever been with a woman that was not bought?"

I could feel my own face reddening. "I didn't pay, and that was almost twenty years ago."

"Did you even kiss her?"

"What? Of course not, she was a prostitute," I said appalled.

"Don't be foolish, boy. Not the whore, Hermione!" I was shocked at Minerva's language.

"No." I was backed into a corner and we were going to have the talk whether I wanted it or not. My own inexperience never crossed my mind. When did I have time for women? And when I was a student nobody wanted to touch the greasy haired, big nosed, snaggle toothed Snape. "I thought Hermione had experience in that area."

"She is afraid you think she does based off of a conversation she said you heard, but she really doesn't. So essentially you are almost a virgin, she is one, and I care very much about her. Don't do anything stupid, Severus. You are both like children to me and I want you to be careful," she said motherly concern filling her voice. She was clearly not embarrassed to be having this conversation.

"I am the potions master, Minerva. I know how to be careful in that area. This school goes through more contraceptive potions than a brothel. For the record, just because I have not had call to use them, does not mean I do not know the spells either."

"You can be so obtuse. I don't mean take prophylactic care, I mean just take care," Minerva snapped. "Be discrete. First loves tend to have an air about them and if you consummate your relationship it will be harder for you to keep a lid on it. As long as she remains in your class you will have to behave."

"Maybe I should kick her out," I said sarcastically. What a surreal week I'd had.

"That might not be outside the realm of possibility."

"You wouldn't."

"I don't want to have to. I am not going to tell you to keep your hands off of each other, but I cannot stress strongly enough how precarious your position here will become if you expose your relationship one second before she finishes her NEWTs. After that, the devil may care, but before then, do not give me a reason to fire you." Minerva finished with a sweeping gesture of her hand. The office door opened and she pointed me out.

My conversation with Minerva succeeded in doing two things. One was that I could not stop thinking about sex with Hermione and I had to sit behind my desk through the first half of my first period class. And second, she made me think about my future as an educator differently. Since Voldemort's return I did not have the luxury of pursuing independent research and it was time I dusted off my notes. If I was going be taking risks with Hermione then perhaps I should find something else to contribute to the world of potions that would keep my job secure.

I was able to restore my blood to my brain before Hermione arrived for her free period, but the moment she walked through the door it reversed direction once again. My robes were big, but they wouldn't hide the obvious especially if she wanted to hug me so I remained behind my desk and greeted her from there. I instantaneously became aware of the subtle way her hips sashayed while she walked and the way the stray curls from her ponytail kissed her neck the way I wanted to. Seeing her through spectral eyes opened me up to her intellect, kindness and inner beauty, but having the blood back in my body turned her into a sexpot. I could not take my eyes off her hands as she took her bag off her shoulder and pulled out her exam from the day before. She smoothed it out on the desk and I imagined the planes of my chest were the paper and the room suddenly grew warm.

"Are you all right?" she asked innocently approaching my desk. She was a tease and she had no idea.

I tugged at the collar of my shirt. "I'm just a little warm. Is it warm in here?"

She laughed. "It's the dungeons, it is never warm. Are you sure you don't have a fever?" She stepped closer to me and placed her warm palm on my forehead. I jerked back.

"I am fine, really," I said taking her exam from her and opening it up. "Was there anything in particular you wanted to go over?"

"You smiled at me this morning."

I snapped my head up. I had forgotten about that particular gaffe since my conversation with Minerva.

"I could not help myself, you are stunning," I said staring at her mouth.

"Thank you," she said huskily, or perhaps that was my imagination. "Harry suspects something."

Talk about shooting a man's horse, I felt my balls crawl inside my body, probably forever.

"Maybe you should tell him what is going on." If I wanted to refrain from ripping her clothes off and devouring her like a starving man at a feast then I only needed to think of Harry. That was good to know.

Hermione cocked her head to the side considering my words. "I want to, but I don't want to upset him either."

"Would it upset him to know that you are in a relationship with a man who cares for you deeply and wants to take care of you?"

"No."

"You believe he will be upset because it is me."

"Yes," she sighed. "I shouldn't be, I know."

"No, you shouldn't be, but I understand. You are not concerned about how Weasley will feel?" I asked.

"Not really. He would be angry no matter who it was, Harry just has a problem with you, not that Ron doesn't, but the history is different," Hermione said sitting at the edge of my desk. Her skirt lifted slightly revealing the bit of her lower thigh just above her knee. My hand twitched to reach out and stroke her leg.

"Don't tell him yet," I said making a decision. "I owe him an apology. Let me talk to him before you say anything. If I am the one to break it to him he might direct his anger towards me instead."

"You would do that for me?" she asked genuinely surprised.

"I would do it for all three of us." My gaze travelled from her leg to her hips all the way to her round breasts hidden beneath her school sweater before I could finally reach her eyes with my own. It was completely unsubtle and meant to throw her off guard. She was blushing and her lips were parted delicately.

"I don't want to talk about your exam."

"Neither do I," she whispered.

I used my wand to close and lock the door and I stood up so that I was standing over where she was perched on my desk. Summoning my nerve I reached out and touched a curl that was looping in a sexy spiral at the base of her ear. I bent down and kissed her there ever so gently but she responded with sharp inhalation of breath. At first I thought she was upset, but then her hand drifted up and she wove her fingers into my hair. I placed gentle kisses on her jaw line until I finally reached her lips and it was everything I imagined it to be. She was warm and yielding, and suddenly the word moist took on a pornographic quality. This is what I wanted, a kiss that was nothing but mutual attraction and exploration not a substitute for an emotional void that I could only fix on my own. The kiss filled an entirely different part of me altogether. I broke off the kiss before it could go too far and backed up to gauge her reaction.

Her face was flushed, and her lids were low over darkened eyes. I wanted every square inch of her right then and there, but I was in my classroom and I needed to remember that.

"This is going to be a very long year," she whispered.

I kissed her again lightly on the lips and rested my forehead on hers. "You have no idea."

* * *

**A/N: This chapter seemed kind of weird to me, but it was necessary so don't flame me. I had someone ask if there was a lot more to go and the answer is yes. This is not going to be a short fic by any means. Please review, it makes my day. Severus' view of politicians is purely his own. I happen to have a slightly disturbing fascination for them. **


	18. The antidote for fifty enemies

Disclaimer: I make no money from this.

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 18

The antidote for fifty enemies is one friend.

In the next week and a half it became painfully clear how withdrawn I had become from the world around me. I was vigilant of my immediate surroundings, but I cared little about the news or happenings at the school unless I, or someone close to me, was involved. Therefore, when three of the oldest Slytherin students were suspended from school to face a criminal trial for torturing younger students, I was not wholly surprised, but befuddled that I did not see it coming, especially after my unfortunate interrogation where I personally incriminated them all. That little bit of news made it in the paper almost a full week after the suspension, but my testimony was corroborated by a confession that was forced out of the Carrows. The first time they were interrogated, the Aurors did not ask about the student behaviour because at the time it seemed a nonissue. My interview ultimately led them to question the Carrows again, not to punish them again because that would fall under double jeopardy, but to get information that was missed. It is entirely likely that the other staff members assumed I was fully aware of what was going on, but due to my rather taciturn nature, I chose not to speak of it. The truth, however, was much more embarrassing. I simply wasn't paying attention.

Kingsley was not able to keep my name out of the papers for long, but I was not flooded with owls like the school was. I received a few, both good and bad, but it was the suspension that drew the most attention. The parents knew that students were involved, but I do not believe many of the younger children were willing to point fingers at students that were still at the school. It was still early enough in the year that no plots of revenge had been carried out that I was aware of. I also found it highly unlikely that that any of the boys would return to Hogwarts if they could even manage to stay out of prison.

In double potions with the seventh years the day Goyle, Vaisy, and Zabini were hauled away by the Aurors I set the students to begin cutting up ingredients for a Mandrake restorative draught. Thanks to a little thing called magic, I had always been able to hear every word uttered by every student in my classroom regardless of how quietly they spoke or how talented they were at casting a Muffliato spell. I created that spell and Potter of all people should be able to remember that, but some people never learn. I cancelled the spell as soon as I detected it and under the pretence of walking the room I listened to his mumbled conversation with Weasley. Hermione kept casting furtive glances at me obviously torn between being involved in the conversation and disobeying classroom rules.

The trio cast a look at Draco and Pansy who were a lonely pair without their third wheel, Zabini. In the potions room, those three were often lumped together as much as the Golden Trio were. I passed over Draco's table and was about to correct him on his method of cutting up the mandrake root, but a look from him stopped me. After two years he still did not want my help in any avenue. The old Draco would have been pleased I showed him the care and attention. I was disappointed, but of course did not show it.

"—should have taken Draco too, I bet he was right beside his mates when they were torturing everyone," Ron was muttering to Harry whilst shooting menacing glances in Draco's direction. Draco ignored him, but I could see his brow furrowing. I walked closer to Weasley and bent over Padma and Parvati Patil's work to inspect it, but kept listening.

"I don't think so, Ron," Hermione said. "He didn't want to sell me out when Bellatrix tortured me. I mean he looked really frightened."

Hearing Hermione mention how Bellatrix tortured her so casually caused my stomach to twist. Potter ignored Hermione and sent his own glare at Draco before responding to Ron.

"He probably is innocent, but only because he is a coward. Besides, Hermione, you've always given him the benefit of the doubt even when you shouldn't have, like sixth year," Harry whispered. I had heard enough. I could see Hermione about to admonish Harry, but I felt it was high time Potter learnt a lesson.

"Cowardice you say?" I whispered from directly behind him causing all three to jump in their seats. Hermione hissed as she dropped her knife and hid her hands under the table. "During detention immediately after class we can have a discussion on what it means to be cowardly."

Harry and Ron looked mutinous and started ranting about the afternoon's Quidditch practise they had scheduled, but I was already ignoring them and focusing on Hermione. She was fumbling with one hand in her bag trying to dig out her wand while the other was dripping blood on the floor. It was apparent that when I surprised her she stabbed herself with her silver knife.

"Granger, follow me," I ignored the glares from her friends and turned towards the storeroom. I could hear her hissing at Weasley and Potter to shut up before they got themselves into more trouble. I already had the dittany in my hand before she arrived.

"Let me see your hand," I said loudly enough for anyone attempting to listen in to hear and then I cast my own Muffliato. "I apologise, I did not mean to sneak up on you like that."

I carefully inspected her cut. It was directly across her palm and I could see the tendons of her hand at its deepest point. "Look up at me," I said gently as I cast the healing charm.

"You are not going to get in Harry's good graces by giving him detentions." Hermione kept her eyes obediently trained on mine. She sucked in her breath when I dropped the dittany on the remains of the cut to prevent scarring. "Not that I think he didn't deserve it."

"He does deserve it," I said feeling angry once more. I rubbed a few gentle circles on Hermione's palm with my thumb. It felt dangerous and exciting to be touching her with the rest of my class only a few feet away. "I will use the time to the best of my advantage."

"Draco seems angry with you too," Hermione commented. I had not discussed my relationship with Draco with Hermione.

"He is," I said before giving her hand a quick squeeze and exiting the room. We would have to talk later, although finding time to be alone together was proving extraordinarily difficult.

Now that school was in full swing and I was no longer considered the greasy git from the dungeons, more and more students were visiting during my office hours and free periods to ask questions and check on potions in progress. It used to be only Slytherins who would do this, but I had visitors from all four houses and it felt quite good to be able to teach students who respected me more than they feared me. I had high hopes for my future as an educator. Unfortunately that only left a few minutes of stolen conversation here and there, and we never had a chance to re-enact our kiss. There was not a night that went by that I did not fall asleep feeling the ghost of her warm lips on mine. I know that I was a bit old to be discovering this, but I found that I quite enjoyed kissing and was looking forward to doing it again.

At the end of class Harry remained in his seat, but he refused to look at me and instead stared at the blackboard directly in front of him. I let him read and reread the ingredients listed on it several times before I finally spoke.

"Potter," I said. I did not continue until his stony glare was directed at me. "Why are you here?"

Confusion flitted across his features, but he quickly recovered and stared at me blankly. "Because you told me to, _sir._"

"You do not want to be here then, I presume. So, I repeat, why are you here?"

He still appeared confused so I continued. "Wouldn't you have rather walked out of this room with your friends to play Quidditch? You are the captain, are you not? Are your loyalties to them, or me?"

He remained silent, but I could see the answer on his face. "Answer me, Potter. You may be a war hero, but I will not tolerate your disrespect."

"Yes. I would have rather left," he replied with steel in his tone.

"Why didn't you then? Were you too cowardly to just leave? Were you afraid of more punishment?" I asked knowing that Potter was never going to see my point until I made it painfully obvious.

"No, I wasn't being a coward."

"If you are afraid of more punishment, then I could say you were being a coward," I snapped losing my patience. "That is something you have in common with Draco Malfoy. He did not hurt students or betray your identities because he was afraid of Voldemort? I don't think so, Potter. Voldemort would have killed him without batting an eye if he found out, and he almost did. What Draco did that day was courageous and you ought to thank him. He was afraid of being punished, but not by Voldemort."

Harry had lost his patience as well. "He tried to find me to deliver me to Voldemort and I still saved his life twice on the day of the Final Battle, I think we are even."

"He was under orders to bring you to me," I snarled. "So that I could give you the information necessary to defeat Voldemort. If Draco had succeeded in bringing you to me it would have been a direct violation of Voldemort's orders resulting in instant death, but he was going to do it. You will never be even as long as you think there is a score to settle. You of all people should understand how fine the line between right and wrong is, good and evil, and cowardice and bravery, Potter. Just because you fought against the Dark Lord does not mean you know the half of what we had to do ourselves in order to protect those around us."

I did not intend to say 'we.' I immediately shut my mouth and clenched my jaw. I wanted to understand Potter, and I wanted him to understand me, but I was only losing my temper. As much as I wanted Hermione to have Potter's support where I was concerned, I realised it was not something I would be able to extract from him forcefully. My outburst was a blatantly Gryffindor tactic, but apparently Potter had a lot more Slytherin in him than I thought. He still said nothing and if he was giving my words any consideration, it did not show on his face. I wanted to teach him a lesson, but in the end I believed neither of us would come out any better off.

"You may go, Potter," I said quietly without looking away from his piercing green eyes. Eyes that were nothing like Lily's in that moment except in colour. "I will leave you alone, if that is what you wish."

That evinced the first reaction from him. He looked at me suspiciously before gathering his belongings and walking away. I leaned against my desk and pinched the bridge of my nose in an attempt to stave off the headache that I could feel forming, but out of the corner of my eye I saw him pause and open his mouth as if to say something. After a moment he thought better of it, closed his mouth and disappeared.

Frustrated with it and its inhabitants I skipped dinner at the castle and went to Hogsmeade instead. While I was there I made an inquiry on the house I had seen while I was a spirit. Aberforth Dumbledore had the listing information and I was able to set up a time the coming Saturday to visit with the owners. It belonged to an elderly couple who had left for Majorca early in the war. They opted not to return to their beautiful home in England after enjoying the atmosphere of the island for so long. I thought the cottage would be a much more suitable place to come to during holidays than Spinner's End, and the thought of having a home so close to the castle was appealing. Since I was not head of any house, my duties there were considerably less and after this year, I hoped to have a reason to not want to sleep there anymore either. I returned to Hogwarts with a considerably improved disposition and even stopped to watch the Gryffindor Quidditch team practise in the distance before I went back in. The evening was warm and clear with a few clouds visible in the growing dusk. It was the perfect time for an evening flight over the forest, and I was itching to fly again myself.

It was a quarter of ten before I finally went back inside. Intending to only watch for a few minutes, I watched the entire Gryffindor team's practise from a hiding spot amongst a small grove of alder trees. The whole team was in top form, including Weasley who usually suffered from a disastrous lack of self-confidence. When the Gryffindor team had called it a night I snuck into the school's broom stores and took the first broom eye laid my hands on. It was not nearly as preferable as my own Nimbus, but it would do. I took off and flew gracefully over the forest and relished the feeling as the wind pushed my hair out of my face. I could feel the curtain of my robes flying behind me almost completely covering the tail end of the broom. After about ten minutes in the air I heard the tell tale swish of someone else flying beside me. Septima Vector nodded at me and pushed forward leaving me behind in a burst of speed. I pursued her until we had gone several miles north of the castle and then we flew back at a much gentler pace. I landed just outside the stores so that I could return the broom I took, but Septima flew on with a small nod. It was an impressive show of solidarity, and in that one flight she showed me that at least with her nothing has to change. She hadn't spoken one word to me since I woke up, yet that one flight spoke volumes over everything else the staff had tried to say.

I went up to the library hoping to find Hermione there, but she was not at her usual spot. I assumed that she went to bed early and was disappointed. It would be unreasonable to request that she tell me where she was going to be every minute of the day since I was not able to return the courtesy, but it did not stop me from fantasising about it. I knew that I was being possessive and I could not bring myself to care, I wanted her that badly. It was absolute torture being so close and not being able to act on each and every one of my impulses. I saw Bill doing rounds near the Gryffindor towers and not wanting to have a conversation I turned quickly and went back down. On the fifth floor I found Draco pacing back and forth in front of a wall. He did not hear my approach.

"Are you looking for something?" He did not jump when he heard me. He simply continued to pace. Draco clenched his jaw and his fingers were opening and closing into fists. I thought he was going to ignore me, but he stopped and I finally got a good look at his face. I feared that he was losing his mind. His cheeks were flushed and tearstained and his mouth was twisted in a grimace.

"Crabbe destroyed the Room of Requirement with Fiendfyre," he said with a calm that did not match his features. I was truly beginning to worry. So, it was Crabbe that had decided the magic fire was a good idea. He ended up hoisted upon his own petard. Hermione had said the same thing about the room being destroyed, but I was beginning to think the magic of the castle was stronger than that and it was just that room that was destroyed.

"I can't get in!" Draco shouted pounding a fist against the wall.

I reached out and took Draco's bloody hand. He had broken it and his skin was burning hot with fever. "Why do you need to get in?"

Draco's face changed from anguish and despair to rage almost instantly. It was as if he only just realised I was there. He backed away quickly, but I was faster and I had a handful of his robes. He tried to twist away, but he needed help.

"Leave me alone," he said, his voice was icy and dangerous, but he was too frightened by something I couldn't see to be a danger to me.

"I am taking you to the hospital wing," I started to pull him along with me but he started beating at my arm and shouting to be let go. Every other word was traitor. The blows hurt, but I did not let go. I felt my own despair as he reacted. His wand was poking out of his pocket, but he did not have the sense to pluck it out and hex me. Bill Weasley rounded the corner and saw us struggling a moment before I was about to immobilise Draco.

"What is going on?" Bill shouted over Draco's lunatic wailing.

"Clearly the boy has lost his mind," I snarled. "Help me get him to the hospital wing."

Between the both of us we managed to drag Draco to the hospital wing. By the time we arrived he had lost his fire and slumped over in defeat.

I left Bill to dump him in a bed while I went to find Poppy and explain what was going on.

"He is burning with fever and he broke his hand. He is also delirious," I told her. My godson appeared to be going insane and there was nothing I could do to help him. I was tempted to enter his mind and see if this fit was just a one off, or if he was making a habit of it.

Draco was thrashing his head back and forth and mumbling while Poppy healed his hand. Bill stood off to the side watching Draco with pity. I hated pity and I did not want to see it on the Gryffindors face.

"Thank for your assistance," I said forcefully trying to convey with my tone that he was not welcome.

"I understand," he said. "Let me know if I can do anything. I will alert the Headmistress."

Poppy had moved from his hand to the rest of him. She was weaving her wand all over him with lightning speed taking his vitals and making notes at the same time.

"He can't get out," Draco mumbled as he thrashed his head from side to side. "Crabbe can't get out. I have to let him out."

That was why he was at the Room of Requirement, but he was very ill and I secretly hoped it was the illness causing the madness and not the other way around. I bent over his body and started to examine his skin while Poppy continued to run spells. At the base of his throat I saw something that knocked the wind out of me.

"He's been poisoned."

Poppy stopped running her vitals and looked where I was pointing. She immediately changed tactics and started running a different series of tests. I knew exactly what I was looking for. The marks on his chest from his hands scrabbling at his own throat stood even more red and violent against his already pale flushed skin. It took only a few moments to figure out what substance had caused him to claw at his own throat. He had taken a toxic dose of oil of wintergreen which was known to cause fever and confusion, and would actually create bezoars in his own stomach if he had enough.

"Its oil of wintergreen," Poppy and I both said at the same time. My relief was so profound I sat on the bed by Draco's feet and put my head in my hands. Salicylic poisoning I had seen before, but it was usually beyond this point and the victim was dead. Draco had overdosed on what the Muggles would simply call aspirin.

Poppy had Draco calmed and almost asleep by the time Minerva arrived with Professor Vector, Draco's new head of house.

"What's happened," Minerva gasped looking at the flushed and sweating boy still twitching on the bed.

"He appears to have taken too much oil of wintergreen," Poppy said clinically as she continued to treat him.

I looked at Vector angrily. Surely as head of house she should have noticed something was wrong with him. I noticed something was amiss just in the few minutes I could observe him in class, but he was not speaking to me.

"I suggest you send and elf to search his belongings for any sort of potion, mass produced or otherwise that might contain the ingredient," I said menacingly. The earlier camaraderie we shared while flying was gone in the face of her neglect. I could not forgive her being unaware in the same way I could not forgive myself.

Septima glowered at me, but did as I said. The small elf arrived in a few moments holding out two empty vials, but that was all.

"Severus, he has not been brewing anything in your lab has he?" Minerva asked.

"No! I would never let _any_ student brew an unauthorised or highly addictive potion in my lab for anything other than educational purposes. In which case the potion would come straight here to the hospital wing, or remain in my lab to be destroyed." I sniffed the inside of the vial. "This, however, is a medicinal potion, neither illegal nor dangerous if taken in the proper dose."

I couldn't believe that Draco would voluntary take pain killers in the first place, let alone enough to make him delirious. I would have to wait until Draco was well again and force him to talk to me. If I had to invade his mind, then so be it. I could not stand idly by and watch my godson destroy himself.

"Leave, Snape," Draco mumbled, his voice was thick with drowsiness and his eyes were closed.

Minerva placed a sympathetic hand on my arm. "Go up to my office please, I will meet you there shortly."

I glanced at Draco one last time before walking briskly to Minerva's office. The gargoyle sprang aside and I took the stairs two at a time. I wanted to speak with Dumbledore, although I was not sure what I wanted to say. All I knew was that I was hurting, and I needed my friend. Without Hermione I was not sure where else to turn.

Albus was awake in his frame and he gave me a faltering smile when I approached him. "Is the boy all right?"

"Yes," I told him. "It was an overdose on an otherwise harmless ingredient. He won't speak to me still, after all this time."

"He feels you betrayed him, Severus," Albus said docilely.

"I know." I sat heavily in Minerva's chair and scrubbed my face with my hands. I was tired.

Albus continued in the same placid tone. "First he felt you betrayed his father by taking his place next to Voldemort, and then he thought you betrayed him being a spy all along."

"I know," I said bitterly. "What am I to do about it? He will not come near me and even ignores me in class."

"You're Slytherins, you will figure it out." The twinkle was returning to Dumbledore's eyes.

I growled at him, my temper rising. "Are you enjoying this?"

"I am enjoying seeing you care, Severus. You always have, but your heart is a nice addition to your sleeve. It adds character."

"You are a doddering fool," I spat and turned away from him. Without turning back I asked him another question. I could hear the laughter in his voice. "Do you believe the Fiendfyre would have destroyed the Room of Requirement?"

"Do you?"

I thought about it. "No. The fire would have gone out with Crabbe's death, and it would have destroyed the contents of the room of hidden things, but no. I think the castle's magic is much stronger than that. Draco couldn't get the room to open for him earlier and I believed it was because he was delirious and perhaps confusing the room, but he had a singular motive for getting in there. It was to find Crabbe."

"Why do you suppose it wouldn't let him in then?" Dumbledore asked. I still wasn't looking at him, but I could sense in his tone that he knew the answer.

"Because the room won't open if you ask for something it cannot give you." There would be nothing left of Crabbe but a smattering of ash on top of a mountain of ash.

"That seems to be a common theme amongst the living after a war," Albus said. I finally turned around and looked at him again. "Everyone is attempting to retrieve something they can never have again. You are doing the right thing, Severus, by moving forward. Help Draco, but take care of yourself."

We sat in silence until Minerva returned.

"He is stable, but Poppy would like to keep him in the hospital for a few more days to ensure he is completely cured," Minerva said tiredly as she pulled out a bottle of scotch and poured two glasses. "Do you suspect foul play, Severus?"

"I have not discounted it. It is unlike Draco to do something like this. I have not been in his confidence for some time now, so I am not in a position to really be of use at this point. If there was foul play involved, they were wise to use something that is not an obvious poison." I loathed feeling useless.

"I am highly disappointed in Vector. She never mentioned any problems in the house and I found that quite odd after the last year. You don't suppose she is involved do you?"

"No." I remembered our flight from earlier. "No, I do not suppose she is involved. Do not be too hard on her. It is difficult to watch every student all the time."

"Somehow you did," Minerva said. She was looking at me in a way that I was unfamiliar with, but it bordered on respect and admiration. I shifted uncomfortably in her gaze and set down the drink without taking a sip.

"I have been faltering, but I intend to rectify that mistake," I said stonily.

Minerva smiled. "I am sure you do."

I picked the drink back up swirled the liquid around the glass. "I may purchase a home in Hogsmeade."

Minerva raised her eyebrows. "Really, and what is wrong with the home you have now?"

"Everything," I muttered. "I do not want it anymore. I never wanted it."

"What does Granger think?"

I looked at her shocked. Hermione and I had barely spoken since we kissed let alone found time to discuss my purchasing of a home. With everything that was going on with Draco, I was surprised I even bothered to bring it up.

"We have not discussed it. We have very little opportunity to spend time together, Minerva. She is a diligent student and I am a busy teacher in a school were our relationship is frowned upon. That hardly leaves room for fireside chats about the future," I said more bitterly than I had intended.

"Hermione can take her NEWTs early if she wishes it. She could pass them today if she wanted to, but I think with some extra tutoring she could take them by the Christmas holidays leaving her free to focus on her apprenticeship for the remainder of the year. It would also take the taboo off your relationship since she would no longer be a student. It would benefit me immensely. I could use her help as I continue to teach and run the school." Minerva was sipping her scotch and she had turned her head away from me as if formulating her plan out loud.

I actually liked the idea. Even if I wasn't personally vested in Hermione's time I would have approved. The next few months would be plenty of time for someone like Hermione to focus on getting O's on all her NEWTs. There wasn't a faculty member in the school that wouldn't be willing to sit and practise the practical exams with her. The future seemed a little less dismal the more I thought of it.

"I think if I suggested it she would see my motives much differently than yours," Minerva continued. She turned her head back towards me and drained her glass. "Of course I could order her to do it, and mind you I am tempted, but I cannot take away her right to adequately prepare for NEWTs. I will propose the idea to the rest of the faculty for their approval before I approach her."

I drained my glass as well and she took it from me to clean and put away. "Go to bed, Severus. You look dead on your feet, and your hair is a mess."

I ran a hand through my hair realising it was still rumpled and windswept from my flight. I really needed to pay more attention to my physical appearance. "Good night, Minerva."

I made my way back to the dungeons more slowly. I was exhausted. It had been another day of emotional highs and lows. On my way through I stopped in at the hospital wing and saw Draco sleeping peacefully. I was unsure about how to get through to him, but I was not going to give up. I felt similarly about Potter. The thought that Hermione might be free to be mine soon overpowered the guilt and hurt I was feeling over both Draco and Harry. If I could have Hermione by my side my problems would not seem so big or insurmountable.

Before I retired for the night I hastily wrote her a note and had a house elf leave it by her pillow. Despite the disparity of emotions I had experienced throughout the day I was able to sleep well.

The next morning I did not see Hermione at breakfast but I did during our free period just as I had requested in the note. Hermione swept into my office clearly agitated with me.

"I was so worried about you! Thanks for sending the note, but when you disappear like that it reminds me of when you," she paused. "I don't like it."

"It reminds you of what?" I demanded. There was something in her face that made my heart ache.

She looked down at her feet for a moment before looking up and meeting my eyes. Her brown eyes were full of affection. "It reminded me of when you would leave because your mark would burn. I worried then and I worry now."

I didn't know what to say so I stood up and walked around my desk so I could pull her close. "I didn't know you were paying that close of attention."

She backed away. "Of course I was. I told you I cared about you. I don't get to see you often enough and I have no way of finding you. I know that you are a secretive man, but this is really hard and it has barely been two weeks. My birthday is on Saturday and I can't even celebrate it with the person I really want to."

I knew that her birthday was only two days away, but the events of the last week had almost driven it completely out of my mind. I did not know what to give her and I was avoiding thinking about it. Holidays were always just another day in the year for me, and gift giving was something I generally reserved for the Malfoys and whatever poor unfortunate faculty member I drew out of a hat. Hermione deserved something nice. She reached up and swiped at a tear.

"What is wrong?" I asked trying to sound tender. I know she knew that I was not comfortable with weeping women.

"Nothing, I'm fine."

"Why do you bother, Hermione? You know you are going to tell me." I bent down and lightly pressed my lips to her cheek, kissing away the salty moisture.

"All right, I'll tell you, but it is stupid. I wish that I was going to hear from my parents. They always sent me something really clever for my birthday and it was a big deal in my house. Ron is drifting away trying to find a new girlfriend, Harry is with Ginny and always angry with me or something else, and I really want to be with you, but we can't. I'm just frustrated. I shouldn't miss my parents because of my birthday because they weren't there for the last one, but it is days like that when I think of them." She buried her face in her hands and let out a great shuddering breath, but when she looked up she was not crying.

"I understand."

"You have bigger problems than that though, Severus. What happened with Draco? And Harry." Hermione asked moving away from me and sitting in the chair reserved for students in front of my desk.

I took a few moments to tell her what happened with Harry's detention and Draco's illness, but I glossed over my concern. I was not hiding from Hermione and I was sure she could see the worry and pain in my face.

"I feel that I have made enemies of them both, as much as I wish we could be friends," I finished. "For the record, Hermione, there is nothing wrong with missing your parents. I am not a callous man, and you know that. It does not suit my purpose to think badly of you for missing loved ones, therefore I don't."

Hermione smiled. "You may not be callous, but you are still calculated."

"That does not offend me," I said pulling her to her feet. I wanted to kiss her again, but not in my office. Once more I led her to my sitting room through my private office entrance. I sealed off the classroom with a quick flick of my wand so that no one could get in. Hermione had made it in front of my bookshelf and was about to select a volume when she noticed me watching her.

"Sorry, I shouldn't just assume I can touch your books," she said withdrawing her hand and looking bashful. I thought she was the most beautiful creature in the world at that moment. If she only knew how much her desire for learning made me want her. I stepped over and took the book off the shelf and handed it to her. It was an old text on transfigurative potions. I was not surprised she went straight to it.

"Take it; I was going to give it to you anyway for your research." She took the book gratefully and glanced at the cover. I was staring at her and I knew it, but I could not help myself. I felt predatory. There was a heat burning inside of me and all I could think about was how I wanted to pull her skin off her body and wrap it around my own. I needed her. She looked up at me and gasped.

I pulled the book from her grasp and captured her lips with my own. The kiss was much less tender than the first one and within moments I had my tongue in her mouth. She responded eagerly wrapping her arms around my neck and pulled her body close, but I pulled my hips back so that she would not feel my arousal. The fiery need that I felt only moments before subsided slightly, and I was able to slow the kiss down and gently pull away. I felt every ounce the forty year old virgin that I practically was. Instinctively, I became shy and embarrassed that I had practically tackled her just so I could put my tongue in her mouth. She tasted like ambrosia and I wanted more, much more, but I was not suave enough to go for it.

"I apologise," I said straightening my robes and backing away. "I should not have given in to that impulse."

A flash of anger passed over Hermione's lust filled eyes. "I want you to give in, Severus. I want you. I need to know that you want me too."

I reached for her hand and held it. "I am inexperienced."

"Excuse me?" She said bemused. "That was not the kiss of an inexperienced man."

I looked into her eyes pleading with her to understand so I wouldn't have to explain anything.

"You mean you are a virgin?" she asked quietly astonishment saturating her tone.

I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks, but this was a conversation that needed to be had. "No. There was a revel one night where the Dark Lord paid for entertainment. That happened once, seventeen years ago. It was an offering from Voldemort to me, to replace Lily after he killed her. You saw my memories; you know I asked him not to. I lost my virginity to a whore to prove my loyalty to a man I reviled, but I never touched her with my lips."

"Does that mean I was your first kiss?"

"Yes." I could not bring myself to look at her anymore.

"You never had sex again?"

I tried not to get annoyed, but I still pulled my hand away. "I think that much is obvious."

"Please do not get angry, Severus. I am surprised that is all. I never liked to think about your past sexual exploits because I assumed there were many, not few. Surely you had opportunities," she said taking my hand back.

"I had some, but as a spy I was unfit. I did not want to use women for their bodies, and I could not have a trusting relationship with anyone as long as they couldn't know I was a double agent." My sitting room felt small and oppressive somehow as I waited for her judgement for my sexual inexperience.

"I am a virgin. Although I will admit that I have done more in the snogging arena than you have, but I don't feel awkward about my virginity because I know who I want to take it," she said almost gleefully. "You should see your face, Severus. Please, please, please, do not think I feel ill of you. In fact, you just made me respect you more. How could you not think that would happen?"

I said nothing. Hermione leaned up into me and gave me a soft lingering kiss. "How could I not want more of that? You are not rushing things or being presumptuous. If you do something I am not ready for, I will stop you."

I still said nothing; I simply kissed her until it was time to leave for lunch. All of the frustrated concerns of the day were lost in the heated pleasure of her mouth on her mine. I was the most fortunate fool on the planet to have someone so completely and utterly made for me right there at my fingertips. I almost told her I loved her a thousand times that day, and even now I don't know what stopped me.

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	19. They do not love that do not show love

Disclaimer: I am not JKR

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 19

They do not love that do not show their love.

Saturday morning dawned overcast and dreary. It was weather I particularly enjoyed, but I feared Hermione might find it unwelcome on her birthday so I was grateful that by the time breakfast was over the ceiling in the Great Hall was significantly less cloudy. There was no new gossip related to the suspended students floating around the school, but I had sent my own owl to the Kingsley and he replied saying that they were not likely to be returning to school. Their trial was set to start in a month and several students would be receiving summons to testify, but I expected many of them would refuse.

Draco was still in the hospital wing and refused to speak to me when I visited. He did not ask me to leave which was an improvement over my last encounter. I told him that I wished him well and left it at that. There was no use in offering counsel or assistance because he would reject it and would continue to reject it until he was finally ready to either make peace or fight. I eagerly anticipated the moment he was willing to do either. I preferred to make peace, but I was certain it would not come without a fight. I made a mental note to ask Minerva if Narcissa had been notified of illness. I still had not written her myself for fear that she would tell Draco and that would drive the wedge between us even deeper. I did not want Draco to think I was interfering.

I pushed all of those unpleasant thoughts and more aside so I could focus on the day, Hermione's birthday. I was growing tired of feeling emotionally charged and agitated all the time and I wanted to spend one day having a normal life where I could spend time with my girlfriend on her birthday and look at a house that I might want to buy.

Minerva had already made plans to take Hermione to Hogsmeade for a meeting so she could offer Hermione the option to take her NEWTs early. I was to meet them there after my appointment at the house and then I was going to take Hermione away for the rest of the day. That is if she didn't object, but I doubted she would. I still had not purchased her a gift. She'd mentioned that her parents always gave her something clever and I would have given her anything in the world, but I really had no idea what she would want. I made her scented oil that I put in a small glass globe and filled with reed diffusers that I hoped she would like. Although, I have to admit that it was more for me. I copied the scents I smelled on her the most, citrus flowers, books, and oolong tea to make up the oil. It was not a very clever or useful gift, but I at least thought of her when I made it. I ended up not giving it to her because as the smell filled my room it reminded me of her and I could not part with it. I was going to have to find some other way to make the day meaningful.

Hermione looked cheerful at the breakfast table flanked by Harry and Ginny. Several owls were dropping birthday wishes on her plate and her friends were helping her sort through them. Being a war hero had its benefits apparently. Many of the letters she opened were fat with galleons and she left the table her arms considerably loaded. My own birthday card had arrived on her pillow and I was grateful for that because I hadn't considered that well wishers from all over the country might be sending her letters. It would have been disastrous indeed if one of her friends opened my note rather than her. I had signed it with my name.

I left shortly after the morning meal to visit with Mr and Mrs MacDougall, the owners of the house. They were a pleasant looking pair in their eighties who looked fit and tan from an extended holiday in the islands. Both of them had greying hair, but Ewart's was still spattered with black. They were as neat as their house.

"We left for Majorca just after the Triwizard Tournament finished over at that school. We had already lived through the first war, and others before that, and I was not about to stick around watch another one when I have nothing to contribute. I'm pants at hexing, and Doris here is not much better unless she ran about stabbing Death Eaters with her knitting needles. We enjoyed a quiet life here, having the school nearby was excitement enough for the both of us, but when our young Angus finished up and moved away we started staying in Majorca quite frequently. Nice wizarding communities there," Ewart rambled on as Severus walked with him around the front garden, his wife's arm locked in his.

"This here little plot of land is where Doris liked to keep her flowers for show; in the back I'll show you the place where she grew her magical plants. I'm sure you'll be growing plenty of those being a potions teacher at the school. Anyway, very nice magical communities in Majorca even if it is running amok with Muggle tourists. We'd been going there twice a year going on forty years when we made the stay permanent. See here is a good spot under this alder tree for growing nightshades," Ewart pointed to a spot in the back of the house that we had wandered to. We hadn't even made it into the house yet, but I was already inclined to like it. The couple were so happy together that I imagined the inside of the house was warm with love and good memories. There were some things that not even war could erase. I needed a house that remembered happier times, my own on Spinner's End had never even seen any.

I was not disappointed when we went inside. The house had been emptied of all its furniture, but I had no trouble picturing comfortable chairs and dark cherry wood tables placed strategically on the hardwood floors. There was a large fireplace in the living room with vines carved into the marble and ornate scrolling across the edges of the mantelpiece. On the walls there were squares that were darker than the rest of the walls signifying pictures that had hung for years. The entire house was fitted with crown moulding which made it look slightly more upscale than it actually was. The colours were a bit bright and gaudy for me, but that was easy to fix. There was small dining room and eat in kitchen. Being a home in a purely magical community there were no electrical outlets, but a hodgepodge of wall sconces that looked as if they had been replaced randomly over the years. The final room on the first floor was already fitted with bookshelves along every wall and would make a perfect library.

I was already sold before I even reached the upstairs, but the master bedroom was breathtaking. It was wide and open with French doors that led to a balcony that had a more than pleasing view of the lake and the school. The room was equipped with an en suite restroom and another down the hall in between the two other bedrooms.

"In the basement there is a house elf room, but we never kept one. That was for fancy folk, not us, so the house may need some work, but it is a sturdy place," Ewart said after I had wandered through the place on my own for a few minutes. "I hear you spied during the war, that true?"

"Yes, that is true," I said studying the man carefully. Being so far away during the war it was quite likely he did not have many of the facts or know much of my history. He seemed satisfied with my response.

"Dreadful business, wars, I have lived through several myself and can't say the world was ever a better place when any of them were over, but I had Doris by my side through every single one, and Angus too when he was around. He's off in France now, but he lived in Canada for some time. We encouraged him to go back when Dumbledore was fighting Grindelwald. That was bad business for Europe. Do you have a wife, children?"

"Not yet, no," I replied as I walked down the stairs to view the basement. It would make an excellent lab space with some fixing up.

"Do you have plans to marry soon? Would she approve of the house?" Doris piped up finally. She hadn't breathed a word the whole time, just followed me around glued to her husband's side. I paused when she mentioned marriage. I couldn't imagine a life without Hermione, but it felt like much too soon to discuss a future that involved.

"I have some plans, yes. She would like this house very much I think." I know it was risky talking about Hermione even if I did not mention her specifically. I had no idea what sorts of connections they kept. I trusted them though. I could tell they were eager to make a transaction and take the first Portkey back to Majorca. At the end of two hours I had the deed to the house in hand. Magical purchases were always so much more expedient than Muggle ones. By the time I had finished resetting the wards on the house it was time to meet Minerva and Hermione at the Hog's Head.

The pub was filled with its usual Saturday patrons. Minerva and Hermione made a conspicuous pair at a table in the back, but Hermione looked comfortable and she was chatting amiably with the proprietor. Aberforth seemed to know her well and it made my heart glad to know that I could probably literally take Hermione just about anywhere and she would find a way to fit in. Minerva nodded at me when she saw me walk in and motioned for me to join them at the table. I gave Hermione a small smile as I pulled out a chair. She returned it happily clearly surprised to see me there.

"Happy Birthday," I said politely. It was the first time Hermione and I had been together when Minerva could see us both and I felt slightly awkward. We had her approval and she knew how I felt, but I could not help but feel as if I were being tested somehow.

"Thank you," Hermione replied looking as nervous as I was.

"What'll you be having, Snape?" Aberforth asked me.

"Just a gilly water, please." He left and returned with the drink before any of us said anything else.

"Hermione and I were just discussing the possibility of her taking her NEWTs early, Severus," Minerva said getting right to the point.

"Is that so?" I said raising a solitary eyebrow at Hermione. "And, what do you think?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled. It was delightful. "Don't play coy, Professor. I know you already knew."

I glanced at Minerva who looked as if her face was going to crack from the strain of hiding the shit eating grin that was twitching like mad on the corners of her lips.

"You still didn't answer the question," I said to Hermione fighting to keep my own face straight. I was a Death Eater damn it, but every moment I spent with her I turned into a bigger and bigger puddle of jelly.

"How was your appointment?" Minerva interrupted before Hermione could answer. Hermione looked at me curiously. I still had not mentioned the house to Hermione. I took a long drink before responding.

"It was successful," I said. Hermione could finally not take anymore.

"What was successful?"

"Well, I should probably return to the castle now," Minerva said jumping out of her seat and throwing her cloak over her shoulders. I stood up as well and held Hermione's sweater up so she could slip it on. We were both blushing brightly by the time she was finished putting it on and Minerva finally let loose with that grin. I threw a few coins on the table and placed a gentle hand on the small of Hermione's back to lead her forward. It was a trifling gesture, but one that signified how much of a couple we were actually becoming.

Minerva walked briskly through the small streets of Hogsmeade commenting on the weather as she went. After a couple of turns I could see where she was heading and I smiled at her presumptuousness.

"So, this is it?" she asked stopping in front of the white gate that led to the house I'd just purchased.

I smiled at Hermione before I opened the gate and gestured them through. "Yes, this is it."

"It is idyllic." Minerva took a cursory glance of the front garden and then turned to inspect the front of the house.

"Wait, did you buy this house?" Hermione asked her eyes wide.

I nodded once. "Would you like to see it?"

"Not quite yet, I should really be heading back. You two go on ahead, and I will see you soon. Have a happy birthday, Hermione."

"Thanks, Professor, but shouldn't I be going back with you?" Hermione asked Minerva taking a step to go with her.

"I said, have a good birthday, dear," Minerva reached out and patted Hermione on the cheek before turning on the spot and vanishing.

"You two planned this! And you bought a house?" Hermione practically squealed. "It is so lovely on the outside, can we go in?"

I was delighted that she liked the house, but I tried not to let her see how happy she was making me. There was still the off chance we would go inside and she would hate it.

"You mentioned not liking Spinner's End, but I did not even know you were in the market for a new house altogether already. Did you look at any others?" she asked as I let her in. She let out a soft 'oh' as soon as we went through the door. "It is so bright and roomy. It does not appear this large on the outside."

"I did not look at any others. I found this one when I was in my spirit form," I said taking her hand and leading her through the entrance to the living room. "I did not need to look at any others."

"That's surprising. Most people look at lots of places before making a decision," she ran her hand across the top of the mantelpiece and I saw her smile at the sconces on the walls. She traced the squares where pictures once hung. "How did you know you wanted this one?"

"Do you not like it?" I asked afraid to hear she didn't.

"I love it so far, I was just wondering what it was about it that made you want it." She bounded up the stairs two at a time as she spoke.

"Haven't you ever just seen something and known it was exactly right for you?" I asked her when she reached the top of the stairs. She was eye level with me being two steps higher and leaned forward far enough to kiss me lightly on the lips.

"Yes, Severus, I have." She turned away and raced down the hallway peeking into each room as she passed. She looked positively giddy. "You could make this into a lovely guest room. That is a large bathroom. Ohhh, look at that view."

She'd finally made it to the master bedroom and had thrown open the French doors. I wrapped my arms around her from behind and placed a kiss on her ear. "This is why I chose the place. I loved the view. Despite wanting to have a place of my own, I always wanted to live in a magical village and see the place I grew up. I have many good memories there too, Hermione."

"I don't doubt that. You really are sweet, Severus," she said twisting around in my arms. I lowered my face to hers and kissed her soundly.

"I will have to remedy that," I said sternly. "Do you want to go back downstairs and see the rest of it?"

"Sure, I always liked to look at the upstairs of places first. My dad used to take me to open houses just for the fun of it. He said it was to see how the other half lived." She pulled me down the stairs and inspected the kitchen mumbling about updates and wallpaper patterns. I waited for her to become melancholy at the memory of her father, but she didn't, she just continued to critique the house with good spirits. She said something about how the floor in the kitchen 'just won't do,' and ran her hands along the walls as if measuring something only she could see. The last room she entered was the library.

"This is very nice, Severus. I am sure you will make great use of this room," she said walking the length of it.

"I was hoping you would make great use of it, as well. From the sound of it you already have renovations in mind," I tried to sound jocular rather than frightened of the prospect.

Hermione blushed scarlet and put her hand over her mouth. "It is a habit. Like I said my father and I used to go to open houses and talk about things we would change and keep. It was terribly Gryffindor of me to presume, I mean of course we never discussed what was going to happen—"

I placed a finger over her mouth. "Stop babbling. I know we have not discussed this, but I do hope that we share this home someday. I will not rush you."

"I know you won't," she took my hands in hers and I brought them up and kissed each of her palms. Her eyes glowed with love and a little bit of lust, and my body reacted automatically.

"What would you like to do today?" I asked.

"You mean there is more?"

"Yes and no. Yes because Minerva arranged it so that we could have the whole day together. No, because I did not make any specific plans and was willing to go wherever you wished. I did not want to presume that you would be free the whole day, but you did say you wanted to spend it with me, and I was not sure what to get you," I rambled on.

"Now you're babbling. The day with you is the best gift you could give me. Since we are looking at houses, you said that maybe someday I could see your old one," she suggested tentatively.

"It is not a happy place," I said sombrely not sure if wanted to go. I was afraid it would spoil the mood.

"I expect that."

"Are you sure it is what you want to do?" I could see in her face that it was. I was so smitten with her she could sell sand to me if I was an Arab, so it did not matter that I did not want to go. It only mattered that she did.

I walked forward and wrapped her in my arms. "Let's go then."

We arrived inside the living room of my other house with a pop. As much as the new house needed repairs it was nothing compared to the pit that was Spinner's End. I was almost ashamed to have her there. The paint was peeling from the walls; the carpet was threadbare and ancient. The kitchen tiles had an old bloodstain on it from a time when Voldemort tortured me in my own home. I shuddered at the memory and stepped away from Hermione. I moved to the stack of boxes I had put together when I was out of body.

"You look ready to move already," Hermione commented. She had her arms wrapped around herself. "What happened here?"

"It was ransacked by Death Eaters after the war."

"How do you know it was Death Eaters?"

I looked at her. "Why do you think it wasn't?"

"I do think it was Death Eaters. I only wanted to hear your thoughts." She walked away from me wandered through the rooms downstairs before heading up this time. "Whoever did this was not here searching for something. They were only here to destroy, as if they were sending you a message that they had not forgotten you. They even shredded your books."

Hermione shivered as she picked up a few tattered pages and let them drift down to the ground. "They were only here to hurt you, not to find answers. It makes me frightened for you, Severus."

"I told you this was not a happy place," I said warningly. "We should go."

"All right. I can kind of see why you just wanted to burn it down."

Once we were downstairs again she stopped in front of the small stack of boxes. "Is this all that you are keeping?"

"Yes."

"We should move it now. Let's just take it and you can say good bye to this place," she said pulling out her wand.

"Hermione, it is your birthday, I don't want to spend it moving my things, or in this house," I said walking towards the door.

"It won't take long with magic. Are we banishing them to the new place, or do you want to shrink and carry them?" It was clear we were moving my things. I opted for carrying them through the floo because that was the only method of travel that allowed me to keep my books the same size and keep them on my person. It took us four trips, but that was all and it was over.

"It feels anticlimactic." I was sitting on one of boxes dusting the fireplace soot off my robes. "I feel like leaving that house should have involved a lot more drama."

"We can still burn it down." Hermione reached out and wiped some soot off my forehead and I did the same on her cheek.

"Maybe," I replied seriously considering it. "But not now. I want to take you out for your birthday right now. Somewhere Muggle so we don't have to hide."

"Really?"

"Aren't you hungry?"

"I suppose, but shouldn't you change first?" she asked.

"You're the transfiguration apprentice, why don't you take care of it?"

Hermione grinned broadly as she leveraged her wand at my chest. I tried not to flinch as she silently cast a spell on my clothes. My black overcoat turned into a simple suit jacket revealing more of my white linen shirt underneath, but that was all. Hermione was already wearing her Muggle clothes and I would not have wanted her to change for anything. I appreciated the way her jeans hugged her rear end and her sweater and blouse underneath were just short enough to expose a strip of skin on her stomach when she raised her arms.

"I look under dressed next to you, but you look like a well dressed Muggle now," she said running a hand on the lapel of my new jacket. "It's amazing how that little bit changed your whole look."

"You do not like my teaching robes and funeral attire?" I quipped.

"Not every day is a funeral, Severus," Hermione laughed.

I snorted noncommittally. "It is for the potions in my classroom."

A few minutes later we were seated in a quiet booth at a small establishment in Edinburgh. It was the first meal that Hermione and I had sat down to have together and we were both feeling the awkwardness that only a first date can provide. After a while it went away and I found myself talking about completely mundane things like paint colours and favourite childhood stories, and enjoying it immensely. Before Hermione I do not think I had ever had a purposeless conversation and I realised that one of the things missing from my life was not direction at all, but the lack of it. I needed to just relax and be in the moment. Hermione was completely at ease doing so and even our silences were spent comfortably. We were able to get through the entire meal without talking about work, Harry, or the war once, until the end.

"You never said if you were going to take your NEWTs early or not," I said as we were sipping coffee after our meal. I was holding her hand on top of the table stroking her palm with my thumb.

"I would have only three months to prepare." Hermione frowned slightly and I knew that she was busy making time tables and study charts in her head.

"You would do well if you took them right now," I said trying to sound encouraging. I was biased of course, but I wanted her to believe that her scores were of my utmost concern. "I understand if you want more time though."

"I don't. Minerva really needs my help and that is all the convincing I need. I tend to get a little spastic when tests are near purely out of habit. The exams are really important and I want to get Os, but I know that it is not the only important thing. My experience has taught me more than books or practical exams will." She was looking off to the side deep in thought as she talked.

I gripped her hand more tightly. "That is a very astute thing to say."

" Do you really believe that I held all the students back because I always had the answers?"

"Who told you I believed that?"

"Minerva said that it was a frustration common amongst all the teachers. She said that members of each house have unique learning skills, it is one of the things that gets them sorted, and I managed to hinder all of them. I am so ashamed that I am just learning this now, but Minerva said it was important that I understand how each house learns in order to help them with their studies," Hermione said a little sadly. I never had the conversation with her about her overbearing classroom manners, and neither did I have a chance to bring it up to Minerva. Seeing the hurt in her eyes made me want to thank everything sacred that I was not the one who told her.

"Did you ever figure out how you might have hurt someone from each house?" I asked.

"I did, but I don't think it encompasses each individual in one house. I think house assignments are arbitrary in the first place. If Neville were sorted into Slytherin rather than Gryffindor, he probably still would have been poor at potions and exceptional at Herbology. I think that the Ravenclaws were probably annoyed with my behaviour, but they at least learned because they were the ones most likely to study. The Gryffindors counted on me to have all the answers so they did not study at all. The Slytherins were evenly split with some having the answers and some not, but I prevented them from having to participate and cooperate with the rest of the class by always answering for them. The Hufflepuffs are slightly different because they have all the learning styles. So, I suppose it doesn't really matter what I do to them, the result is the same. I cried all of Monday night after Minerva and I had this conversation. I wish someone had pointed it out to me long ago, it is embarrassing," she said looking oddly blank right then.

"You seem composed now, and accurate. I apologise for not pointing out your rudeness earlier. No, forgive me, I did. I recall pointing out your know-it-all tendencies on a regular basis. I knew you weren't taking me seriously," I replied hoping she would take my comment for the joke it was.

Hermione looked at me and smiled. "Learning my faults is not as difficult as it used to be. I am sorry I made teaching my year difficult."

"You made it interesting."

Hermione and I stopped at my new house one last time before returning to the castle that evening. The night was warm but I started a fire for ambiance and transfigured my outer robe into a plush blanket for us to sit on.

"I have some of my parents' furniture in storage. I couldn't bear to get rid of it all. If you like any of it you could have it, or at least use it until you can furnish your house with what you want," she offered.

"I might take you up on that," I whispered before leaning in to kiss her deeply. I had wanted to do that all day. She responded eagerly and I tasted the wine we had shared earlier. It was a thousand times better tasting it on her tongue than it was from the glass. I pulled back and stared into her eyes mesmerised by the firelight dancing in them. "What did you really want for your birthday, Hermione?"

"A day with you, this is better than any gift. I am going to take my NEWTs early, we'll finally be together, and you even got a house. I would say it was a rather perfect day."

I leaned in to kiss her again, but this time I gently laid her back so that I was leaning slightly on top of her propping myself up on my elbow. I let my other hand drift down her side and across the bared stretch of skin over her stomach. I could feel the fine lines of a few scars, but she was otherwise perfect. For as soft as she was she was toned and muscular. My pants were growing tight and I knew that I should stop soon, but I threw caution to the wind and put my hand up her shirt. I could feel her suck in her breath, but she responded by pulling my head tighter to hers and turning towards me.

I traced her ribs and stomach with my fingers before putting letting my thumb brush along the underside of her breast. Even through her bra I could feel how firm they were and my hand literally tingled as I moved upward to touch her nipples. The reaction was instantaneous as she gasped into my mouth and my cock nearly burst with decades of repressed sexual pleasure. I pulled back before it was more than I could take.

"Don't stop," she moaned into my mouth.

A low guttural growl escaped my throat. "Hermione, I have to."

"No, you don't."

Needing no more convincing, I leaned over her fully and plunged my mouth on hers again. I pressed my whole body against hers and she shifted her leg against my crotch and I almost exploded right then and there. Her small warm hands had somehow found their way underneath my shirt and I practically keened at the contact. I was so inexperienced it was shameful, but Hermione did not seem to notice or mind. I reached back up her shirt and pushed her bra out of the way so that I could roll her nipples in between my thumb and forefinger. She arched her back and pressed her hips into mine. My baser instincts took over and I ground back as I continued to massage her breasts.

"I could come right now," she said huskily as she dug her hands into my hips.

I continued rocking on top of her. "Then do."

"Oh, Severus!" she cried and I could feel her leg muscles tighten around my thigh as she bucked her hips up wildly. I lost it too and shouted her name in turn as I found my own release in my pants. I quickly moved off of her and away until I was on my back as well so she wouldn't feel the mess I had just made of myself. I was still too high from my orgasm to be completely embarrassed yet, but I had no idea if what we just did was typical of a first time sexual experience. None of the talk in my old dormitory as a teenager sounded like this. They only talked about positions and which girl would give it up the soonest. I wondered if all of them started out this way. My memories of my only experience were blotted with the effects of all the alcohol I'd had and my grief over Lily's death. I do not know how I even got it up.

I felt Hermione fumbling for my hand next to me and laced my fingers through hers still unsure what to say. I turned my head and chanced a look at her. I ended up meeting her warm chocolate eyes because she was already looking at me.

"That was wonderful," she whispered reaching out across her body with her other hand to push my hair out of my face. "I wish we didn't have to go back."

Any embarrassment I might have felt quickly fled me at the flush in her skin and the lust in her eyes. She'd enjoyed it as much as I did.

"I didn't push you too far?" I asked just to be sure.

She frowned, but it was not particularly aggressive. "No. I told you already I would let you know when enough is enough. I don't think enough will ever be enough, though. You should know that."

That was when it happened. Before the awkwardness of cleaning me up and putting ourselves back together came I finally said the words that had been stuck in my throat since the second week I had spent with her in my spirit form.

"I love you, Hermione."

My fate was irrevocably sealed.

* * *

**Lots of SS/HG interaction goodness. I hope you enjoyed it.**


	20. The course of true love

Disclaimer: I am not JKR. I am really broke.

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 20

The course of true love never did run smooth.

The next few weeks of term passed by rather quickly and as September turned into October tension in the school increased. The three students who were suspended were officially expelled from Hogwarts, and barred from taking their NEWTs and becoming qualified wizards for three years. In the magical world, that is a hefty punishment. Draco recovered completely and had no more episodes which relieved me, but also made me more convinced that foul play was at foot. If he was taking pain killing potions of his own volition, he would likely have started on them again because he would have easily been addicted. Through my own watchful eye and the extra care provided by Vector, Draco was determined to be free of addiction. I had taken to arriving at meals at the earliest possible moment and staying until only a few students remained so that I may observe the students as closely as possible. There was one student showing a particular disdain for Draco, but not enough for me to jump to any conclusions. Millicent Bulstrode watched him carefully with a hateful glint in her eye, but that could be for any number of reasons. I was not ruling out anyone else, but I had not settled on any other possible suspects either.

In order to avoid speculation that Minerva was showing favouritism to Hermione, she offered early NEWTs testing to all returning seventh year students under the proviso that if they received less than an A they would be required to sit the exam again at the end of the year. They were given the freedom to pick and choose which subjects they would like to test out of early. Students were only allowed to test of out subjects they received an E or an O on when they took their OWLs. Minerva made a good show of telling the students that they were adults and under the special circumstances they were being granted a favour. Surprisingly few students took the opportunity to test out of any of their subjects let alone all of them. Hermione was not the only student to attempt them all, Daphne Greengrass of Slytherin and Michael Corner also chose to do so. I figured that Padma Patil could successfully complete her NEWTs as well, but since she was Head Girl she opted out. Harry and Weasley both received a strongly worded letter from Head Auror Dawlish advising against it if they thought of standing a chance in the Auror training entrance exams. Weasley grumbled that they should receive special privilege because of who they were and be able to skip the entrance exam, but Harry seemed pleased that his status as The Boy Who Lived Over and Over Again was not going to follow him everywhere. I thought that was mature of him.

More and more of my memories were returning to me as well at particularly inopportune moments. During a staff meeting I tuned out Minerva's monotonous droning and watched Albus in his portrait pick the lint off of a lemon drip he'd found in his painted pocket. I had a very vivid flashback of sitting in my room at St. Mungo's listening to him describe in great detail his favourite candies. I could even feel the rage I had been feeling at the time. I felt trapped in the Headmistress's office and I wanted to get as far away from Albus as I could just like when the memory really happened. In the Great Hall during breakfast one morning a couple of second years were arguing about which was worse, Vegemite or Marmite, because one of them had taken a trip to Australia over the summer and couldn't decide. I remembered going to Australia with Hermione, but I had forgotten the fight we had about the airplane. Later that same day, I remembered that Hermione's mother had been pregnant. I hated myself for not remembering it before and for a moment regretted the decision to get to know Hermione without looking at the Pensieve memories she'd saved.

The memory that surfaced at the most disadvantageous moment was also the one that triggered the worst fight Hermione and I would have for years to come, if not realistically the worst ever. In retrospect I imagine that it was lucky we got it over with so early in our relationship, but what I did was reprehensible and I deserved her wrath. Hermione and I had settled back into our routine of not being able to spend much time together since the faculty was busy helping students prepare for NEWTs and Hermione was preparing for the exams herself. At night in the privacy and comfort of my own quarters I had taken to reliving that moment in my new house. I would imagine everything we said and did. At first I revisited the evening in my mind to pick apart my own embarrassing behaviour and to chastise myself for being so naive and inexperienced where sex was concerned. With every tender smile and gentle caress when we could manage it, the embarrassment started to fade and all I could remember was how good she felt under my hands, and how erotic it was to hear her moaning my name when she came.

I was in bed, cock in hand, and was stroking away with nothing but thoughts of Hermione's breasts in my mind when my mental image of her naked was replaced with a vividly clear image of her fighting with Weasley in the Black House library. In my mind I could hear him yelling at Hermione, _'I thought after last night you would have at least spent the night. But maybe my technique wasn't good enough and you were in here looking for books that might help me learn, right? Do I not compare to Viktor or Cormac? Am I missing someone? Harry perhaps?'_

When the memory was over, my penis lay flaccid in my hand and any lust I had been feeling was quickly replaced with anger. I remembered Hermione offering to explain and me saying that her past sexual exploits were none of my concern. She'd let it go without bringing it up again. I was specifically able to let it go myself because at the time, I was planning on saying goodbye to her forever and it was easy to forget about it. On her birthday she had said she was a virgin, but based on her argument with Weasley it sounded suspicious. All I could think about was that perhaps Hermione had lied to me to make me feel better about having a drunken two bit whore that I could not remember two things about being the sum of my sexual experience. As ridiculous as I know it is, the _man_ part of me was ashamed of that. I wasn't angry because she had more experience than me, that was far from it, I was afraid she'd lied to protect my ego, and worse than that, I didn't trust myself to ask her about it.

The week before Halloween was the school's first Hogsmeade weekend and Hermione had managed to sneak away for an hour to meet me at the house. The weekend before I had gone to her storage unit and taken a table and chairs and some living room furniture. It was nice, not but not something I would have chosen. The couch was a deep shade of blue and I preferred more neutral colours, but it was clean and comfortable, and Hermione and I were just about to get going in a heavy petting session when I did one of the stupidest things I had ever done in my life. Stupid when it comes to trusting the woman you love, that is. I had done plenty of other really stupid things. Joining the Death Eaters comes to mind.

When I first dragged Hermione on to the couch I wasn't thinking about anything but her, and the splendid sensation of her mouth on mine, but then our hands started to roam and we broke apart for air. She ran a hand dangerously high up my thigh, and then it hit me that she just might know what she's doing. When our eyes connected I automatically entered her mind and sifted through the memories until I found what I was looking for. I did it so quickly, it was almost instinctual, and I was already in her mind before the guilt could sink in. In the past it had always been my way of garnering information, but doing it to Hermione was nothing less than perfidy. It wasn't long before her mind closed like a steel trap and I found myself lying flat on my back on the floor staring into the business end of her wand.

"What in the bloody effing hell are you doing?" she yelled at me. Angry tears were making her eyes glisten, but they did not fall.

"I didn't know you could Occlude." If anyone needed instruction in stupidity, I was their man.

She leaned forward and pressed her wand into my chest. "Of course I can do Occlumency. How do you think I kept the secret about the sword from Bellatrix? _Some_ of us know when to use our brains. Don't try to change the subject. Why were you looking for those memories?"

I wanted to salvage at least a shred of dignity so I knocked her wand out of the way so that I could stand up, but she sent back on my arse again. I was beginning to get really angry even though she was the one who had been slighted. My pride was hurt and all of my defence mechanisms kicked in at once. The first was putting up the shields around my mind; the second were the shields around my heart. I pulled out my own wand and disarmed her. I took both of our wands in hand and scrambled up before she could reach out and hit me. She was in such a towering rage I wouldn't have put it past her. I put both of our wands on the mantelpiece and stood in front of them.

"Calm down, Hermione. You're overreacting." And the BAFTA for stupidest character in a situation goes to AAAHH Severus Snape!

The angry tears spilt over. "I'm overreacting? You invade my mind without permission, and then you look for my sexual history while we are in the middle of a snogging session? What is the matter with you? If you wanted to know why didn't you just ask?"

Naturally I had no good explanation for that because the truth was far too despicable, but the lie I told was even worse.

"I did it out of habit."

"Out of habit? Do you mean that you have been stealing little glimpses of my mind when my shields were down this whole time?"

The questions were like a mudslide coming out of her mouth and with each one I got buried in it deeper and deeper.

"No, Hermione! I can assure you this is the first time I have ever done that to you. To anyone since I woke up to be truthful," I said trying to calm myself. I may have been wrong, but I didn't appreciate being talked at like I was a naughty child. "I apologise. It won't happen again."

"I won't accept until you tell me why you were looking for memories of me having sex with Ron and Viktor!" she said icily. "I can tell you right now, you won't find one."

"I know," I said just as icily. I had gotten far enough to see that. She was too wrapped up in what we were doing to close her mind in time.

"Good. Then I suppose I don't need to tell you what I'm about to do next because you just read my mind." She shoved me aside to grab her wand, but I was too quick for. I had it in my hand and out of her reach in an instant. My reflexes were coming back in top form.

"You are not leaving me like this. I apologise, I do not know what else to say," I said angrily. I was one outburst away from handing her wand back anyway and telling her to get the hell out.

Hermione held her hand out for her wand. She put the other on her hip and tapped her foot impatiently. "Are you going to tell me why you looked inside of my mind instead of just asking me what you wanted to know?"

"I could, but I don't want to. Would you please just trust that I know it was a mistake, and it will not happen again?" I asked handing the wand to her hoping she wouldn't turn right around and hex me with it. She didn't, she sat heavily on the sofa and did something that hurt a lot more.

"I want to trust you right now, but I can't." She turned her eyes away from mine. "If you wanted to know how far I had gone sexually, you just need to ask. I would much rather tell you, and then have you see it. That is just disgusting."

She was absolutely right and I had no defence other than that I was the stupidest man alive right then. I was already the world's biggest fool so I no longer saw the harm in just owning the truth.

"About a week ago I regained a memory. It was of you arguing with Weasley when you broke up. He made a comment about you being in the library researching technique, and that you could have at least spent the night with him after whatever it was that you'd done. I didn't ask you because I convinced myself that you might have lied to me on your birthday when you said you were a virgin," I said looking at her although she would not meet my eyes. Her face turned a shade of scarlet that would make Godric Gryffindor proud when I was finished.

I could see the muscles in her face working as she clenched her jaw. I still thought she was sexy even in her anger. "Why on earth would I lie to you about _that_? If you had perfect recall you would remember me wanting to explain and you not wanting to hear it."

"I do recall. I am older, Hermione. I always know what is going on, and what to prepare for. With you, I don't," I said almost petulantly. I didn't want it to be about control, but it was.

"Out of all the things you could have some sort of emotional and social hang up on; you have to pick sex, Severus? Two wars, an alcoholic and abusive father, and twenty years of acting as a dual agent, and you are worried about the fact that you can't remember the one time you got off? If I were you I would be glad I didn't remember shagging a prostitute provided by a demented megalomaniac." She turned her head and looked at me, finally. "I would never lie to you. Never. I trust you implicitly. I thought you trusted me. Ron and I gave each other hand jobs, Severus. Yeah, I did it with Viktor too, and when I finally admitted that to Ron he was so insanely jealous he wanted to do it as well. I felt horrible about being with Ron when I didn't love him, so I went ahead and did it anyway because I thought I would never get the man I really wanted so I might as well give Ron a chance. He got off. When it was my turn I was thinking about you, Severus. When I realised that, I lost it, but didn't have the heart to stop Ron who was clearly enjoying himself. I faked an orgasm and when he fell asleep I snuck off to the library because you had just made contact with me that day and I thought maybe I was going insane. I felt like such a slut for doing what I did when I didn't care about him and I cared about you. Then I broke up with him, but hey you're the one who's older and supposed to be in control, so I guess it is okay that I screwed up, right?"

I was at a loss for words. I didn't feel better now that I knew the whole story and I felt like I ruined something really special because I was insecure. I could not hold what she did against her because I probably would have done something similar in her situation, I think. I didn't see how we were going to work past that. I almost cried, but as I always do, I turned it into anger.

"I never took you as the type to be so curious," I retorted. It was true, but not in the tone voice I suggested it in.

"Now you're judging me? I can't believe this." She stood up and yanked her jacket off the back of the couch and put it on. She was so furious she had to try three times to stuff her right arm in the sleeve before she realised her wand was hanging her up. "You are the most brilliant man I know, and I feel lucky to be with you, I really do, but right now I can't even look at you. You need to figure this out, Severus. Let me know when you do."

"Hermione, you know damn well that if you go out that door I can't chase after you," I snapped. I expected she would want me to go after her and beg for forgiveness or something, but I couldn't risk the tattered remains of our relationship by making a public display.

"Don't worry about it. I'll make it easier for you." She turned on the spot and Disapparated to only Merlin knows where ensuring I couldn't follow her.

"Fuck all!" I yelled at the room when she left. I'd handled some things really horribly, but that day was a prize winner. The worst part was that I didn't know which bit pissed her off the most, using Legilimency on her, admitting I wanted to be in control, telling her I'd thought maybe she lied, and etc., etc. The list could go on for days. I didn't even want to be in my new house anymore and I'd only just begun spending time there. I grabbed my own cloak and flooed into my quarters at Hogwarts.

In order to prove to myself that I was not retarded I immersed myself in some theoretical potions research journals to see if there were any promising avenues I might want to explore in my own lab. After a few hours of diligent note taking I threw that aside as well. Nothing I loved to do held any pleasure for me if Hermione was angry with me. A rational man with a heart of stone would have seen that as a threat to his autonomy and ended the relationship. I would have done that if it was anyone besides her. I would have done that if she was Lily. I knew what was going on with Hermione was something much bigger than that. It was different.

What made me believe that it was special not in the sense that what we had was 'special,' but more exceptional rather, was the fact that I couldn't live without her and we barely knew each other. When I thought back to that one memory that I never lost of her, the one where she declared her love for me in a falsely empty corridor, I wanted to hear that. I tried to convince myself to leave her, but it was almost physically impossible. My magic told me that she was the one, and I always trusted my magic. I felt it in my soul when I couldn't even access my magic. It had to have been the same for her; why else would she fall in love with someone like me? I was depraved, and beastly, and socially immature, and she knew all of those things about me, yet she remained. She was an interfering, overbearing windbag, and I wouldn't want her to change that for the world. If it was part of her I wanted it, the good and the bad. She could have slept with Krum and Weasley and I would have wanted to strangle them, but I would have still loved her. I had already unofficially marked Weasley as my nemesis by that point anyway. It was at that moment when I finally figured it out. She was running into this relationship just as blindly as I was. Her experience with the physical didn't make her anymore experienced at figuring out how to make things work than I was.

A quick glance at the time told me that it was a little past time for the students to be back from Hogsmeade and I wanted to go there when they wouldn't be. Instead of taking my floo into the new house I stalked up the stairs and pushed through the milling students in the entrance hall hoping to catch a glimpse of Hermione, but I didn't. I did see Draco slinking off to the dungeons by himself and I felt a small compulsion to go after him, but knew he wouldn't want to talk to me anyway. I would find him later.

It was pouring down rain outside which I thought was just deserts for how awful I had been that day. Of course it would be raining buckets when I chose to walk instead of floo. I found a couple of students loitering by the gate and growled out a detention for both of them for the next morning. I would pawn them off on Filch. The pair looked frightened that the nasty Snape had finally returned and bolted for the doors. It felt stupendous giving that detention. Hermione was changing me for the better, but I still got a cheap thrill out of frightening children. I alone knew that I meant them no real harm, and there was a small power in that. As immature as it was, I revelled in it, and I had no intention of amending it.

When I got to Hogsmeade I went directly to Scrivenshaft's and purchased Hermione a quill. I preferred fountain pens, but she preferred the old fashioned quill. She said there was something classic and regal about writing with a quill and that it was one of the few archaic magical traditions that she enjoyed. I found her ability to pick and choose what parts of the magical world she would adopt, and which parts of the Muggle world she would keep enviable. I lost my father at a young age, but he didn't like anything, so there was nothing Muggle in particular that I cared much about. My mother died shortly after and I stayed at the Malfoys or Blacks when I wasn't in school the last couple of years of my education. Therefore I did not have the luxury to choose what I wanted to honour from the Muggle world. I was completely immersed in the magical world and I never looked back. If Hermione wanted to move back to the Muggle world and stay there I would do that too. I would rather live in her world than in mine without her.

I chose for her a quill made from a raven feather. It was slightly shorter than a normal quill, but the raven that the feather came must have been extraordinarily large all the same. The tip of the quill had an ivy pattern magically engraved on it that matched her wand. I finished my shopping with the purchase of a black leather journal that had fine silver filigree in the shape of a circle embedded in the cover. I wanted to give her something nice, something that was useful, and _her._ I suppose flowers would have been more apropos considering that is the universal male symbol for 'I fucked up,' but I preferred to do something a little more personal. I took the book and inscribed something on the inside cover, and then I had the package gift wrapped in silver and blue and slipped it in a pocket of my voluminous robes.

Dinner was getting started when I got back to the castle, but Hermione was not there. When she did enter it was with Neville Longbottom and she took a moment to glare at me before turning back to her friend. I noticed that she picked at her food, but appeared interested in her conversation with Neville. I couldn't help but notice that Potter, Weasley, Draco, and Bulstrode were all absent from dinner. They weren't the only ones, but they were the most conspicuous. Hermione glanced in my direction again before she left and I offered her a small smile. She did not return it, but I could feel the hurt in my eyes and I think she saw it because her expression softened before she walked away. I loved her and it pained me greatly to not be able to shout it across the Great Hall. Of all the things I was ashamed of, loving her didn't make it within a light year of that list, and it was the one thing I couldn't declare.

After dinner I stopped Vector before she could leave.

"How is Draco?" I asked her. Subtlety was unnecessary. She knew how close Draco and I had been in the past and how much it was bothering me that he was distant.

"He is not ill, Severus. I have no proof that anyone is targeting him. Nothing has happened since he got sick, you know that. He did turn in a submission to take his NEWTs early though, I can tell you that. He is a good student, he will do well."

I did not doubt that, but he never consulted me. If he had I would have advised against it so that I could keep a closer eye on him. I didn't see him anywhere. I wished I had Potter's map so that I could see where he was. I did my rounds, but the students were mostly ensconced in their common rooms. That was typical on Saturday evenings after visits to Hogsmeade. The library had a few more students than normal inside due to early NEWT preparation, but Hermione was not among them. I bit back my disappointment and made my way up to the Astronomy Tower. I avoided that place as much as possible since I sent Dumbledore off it and it was still difficult to go up there. When I got up there though, I found it was already occupied.

"Good evening Potter, Miss Weasley," I said casually as if I interrupted them in the middle of a midnight stroll and not in a heated embrace. Several buttons on Ginny's shirt were undone and I politely turned my head to the side while she closed them. Harry pulled the zipper back up on his pants without taking his murderous eyes off me. They were behaving inappropriately in a public area after curfew. I was in no mood to be challenged. And why Potter would want to do that with his girlfriend in the place where he saw his mentor die was beyond me.

"I will be seeing you in detention Monday, Potter, and you on Tuesday," I said nodding at the girl. "It won't hurt you to be separated for a couple of evenings."

It would hurt though, and I knew it. I missed Hermione like crazy and I knew those two were as much in love as any couple could be. I was being vindictive and Potter knew it. He wrapped a protective arm around his girlfriend and started inside. Ginny was still blushing bright red, but I heard her tell Harry to calm down. It was past midnight and I doubted I would run into Hermione anywhere at that time. I had given out four detentions so I called it a day. I was not looking forward to going to my rooms. They smelled like Hermione because of the reed diffuser and my heart was starting to ache as I thought more and more about our fight. She couldn't avoid me forever. I was willing to do anything for her forgiveness.

I followed Weasley and Potter to the Gryffindor tower to annoy them more than anything. I watched them go inside the portrait hole before I turned away. I was just about to step down the stairs when someone invisible tugged on my sleeve. I whipped around and gripped a handful of shimmery cloth wand at the ready before I realised what had happened.

"Scary when invisible people grab at you, isn't it?" Hermione said pulling the cloak off her head. I reached out automatically and pushed her hair off her face where the cloak had dragged it over. She didn't push me away. She seemed still slightly tense, but much less angry than earlier. I pulled her into my arms before she could move away.

"Oh, Hermione, I am so sorry." I sighed with relief when I felt her arms snake around my back.

She pushed away and slipped the cloak over her head. "I was sneaking down to your quarters to talk to you. I couldn't wait to talk to you anymore. Walk, I'm right behind you."

I started forward straining my ears to make sure she was still following. When we got to the entrance hall she slipped her hand in mine. Even through the cloak I could feel how warm it was.

"How did you get the cloak?" I said quietly.

"Ginny distracted Harry so that I could steal it. She said she was going to take him to the Astronomy Tower. I got held up in the common room so I barely made it out before they got back. Did you find them up there?" she whispered. I felt incredibly guilty about the detentions now that I knew for what purpose they were hiding away on the Astronomy Tower for their rendezvous.

"Unfortunately, yes," I replied.

She snickered. "Let me guess, detentions?"

"Separate ones."

Hermione slipped the cloak off again as soon as we entered my rooms. She didn't approach me or acknowledge my apology, but she did sit down. She looked tired and worried.

"Tea?" I asked concerned.

"This could be a long night. Maybe we should go with coffee." She was fiddling with the cloak. I sent for a pot of coffee from the kitchens and it arrived within a minute, along with a plate full of fruit and vegetables. The elves knew what we both liked. I was used to being catered to at the school, but I looked forward to preparing my own meals when I was able to stay in my house permanently. I poured a cup and added a generous dollop of cream just like she liked it and handed it over. Hermione took it with both hands and blew on it before taking a drink. I was beginning to wonder if I would ever feel those lips on me again. She looked as if she had some dreadful news.

"I know you probably want to talk about our argument earlier, but I have something else to tell you and I don't know which I should start with," she said finally. "I tried to find you earlier, but I must have kept missing you after dinner."

I took a seat in a chair across from her and lit a fire in the fireplace with my wand. "Whichever you feel is most important."

"They both are. When l left your house today I actually only Apparated to a few houses away. I was close enough to yours though that if you were standing outside you would have heard the pop. Someone was standing in front of your gate looking in. I couldn't see who it was because they had the hood of their cloak pulled low over their face, but he heard my arrival and looked in my general direction. I managed to hid behind a tree and Disillusion myself before he saw me. I don't know what he was doing, but whatever it was he was skittish and walked away really fast. He passed by my tree and I got a good look at his face," she said with a shaking voice. She rubbed a hand across her chest as if something pained her there. "It was Dolohov, Severus. I knew he hadn't been captured yet, but I never imagined I would see him hanging around Hogsmeade on a Hogwarts day. He looked around where I was really quickly before Apparating away himself. Something just felt really wrong about it."

Something did feel wrong about it. I was worried about her more than myself though.

"That's not all," she continued. "Neville and I were walking around the outskirts of Hogsmeade just past the train station picking toad rush and we saw him again, but this time he wasn't alone. He was with Yaxley. I thought George and Lee Jordan killed him at the Final Battle, but I guess not. He was the one who killed Fred."

I moved from my chair and sat down next to her. "Did they see you?"

"They heard us, but we managed to hide again. If they did see us I doubt they would have gotten a good enough look to know who we were. Do you think they might come after you?" she asked worry in her voice. It was comforting to hear the concern. It meant that she was not wishing my expedient death after my appalling behaviour earlier.

"I do not know what their purpose is, but I beseech you to stay in the castle. Don't go outside or to Hogsmeade alone for any reason. Try to advise your friends to do the same without giving away too many of the details. Especially Potter. It is not uncommon for escaped Death Eaters to come back seeking revenge on the person who took down their master. There were several after the Dark Lord disappeared the first time, but they couldn't touch Potter so it was not long before they blended back into society. I fear that it will take longer this time. I am surprised it has taken this long to be quite honest. Did you hear anything of what they were talking about?" I asked.

"No," she said biting her lip. "Not really, but I did hear them say a couple of names. Yours and Malfoy's."

It was time I forced Draco to speak with me. I reached out and put a hand on Hermione's. "Please don't worry about me. I need you to take care of yourself."

"Severus, promise me you won't go rushing out to find them. Please promise me!" Hermione said clutching my hand with both of hers.

"I cannot ignore this, Hermione," I said. "I do not want to make a promise I cannot keep."

"Please," she whispered so quietly I could barely hear it.

"I will alert the Order. After that, my orders will come from them. If they will let me back in, that is." I was not sure that they wouldn't, but I was not going to get my hopes up. I didn't want to fight anymore, but if the war was not over, my job was not finished.

"I'll die if something happens to you again." She still held my hands.

"I will do my best to stay safe for you, but you have to do the same. No Gryffindor heroics," I ordered.

"Like my Gryffindor heroics could hold a candle to your Slytherin valour."

"I think you should report what you saw to Minerva with me. It would be much better if the information was received from the source," I said getting up and refilling my coffee. I wasn't going to be able to sleep anyway.

"I don't want to be in the Order," Hermione said surprising me. "I really don't. I'll fight, but I hate it. I really do. The last year was horrifying."

"I understand," I said sitting down next to her again. She leaned her head on my shoulder and I was hoping that I was forgiven.

"I am terribly sorry for this afternoon, Hermione. I can only tell you the scope of my mistakes can't get much worse. What I did today was treacherous at best. I never want to betray your trust, and although I don't deserve your forgiveness, I cannot move forward without it." I could see that she wanted to look in my eyes, but was having a difficult time of it. "Look at me, Hermione."

She did and her warm brown eyes were full of hurt, but they had love in them too.

"I will never do that again. I will take a vow not to if that is what it takes."

"No! No vows, Severus. Vows are dangerous. I want to forgive you, and I will, but I have to know what it all means to you. I need to know that you understand that there is no question to lame or embarrassing to ask me. I want you to trust that I will not judge you, and I expect the same from you," she said earnestly.

"I do understand. I did not mean the last thing I said to you. I do not judge you for your curiosity. I did not stop regretting being limited in my exploits long enough to realise that I would not have cared about them anyway because they were not with you." I tentatively reached out to stroke her cheek and when she did not balk I traced my finger from the corner of her eye to her lips. She turned her head and kissed the tip of my finger gently.

"So, you're not going to be thinking about what you saw when we do things are you?"

I almost laughed. "Impossible. I didn't see enough anyway."

"You're almost forgiven." She leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine quickly and gently. "What's that smell?"

"What smell?" I looked around as if I was going to see the odour somewhere.

"It smells like my shampoo in here."

"Oh that. I made scented oil for you for your birthday, but it reminded me so much of you that I kept it. I actually designed it to smell like you. Pathetic isn't it?" I allowed a small smile to form, hoping that at least something would cheer her up.

"That is actually quite adorable. I would like scented oil that smells like you. Like sandalwood and spiced tea. There is always the residue of some potion on you too, I love it." She was leaning forward and smelling my neck and I could feel my body responding.

"I have something else for you too." I pulled the box out of my robes where it was bumping against my growing erection. "This is definitely an 'I'm sorry gift,' in case you were wondering. I hope to give you many other gifts, but at least this first one will be memorable."

"Don't be silly. The first gift you gave me was you," she said as she carefully tore off the paper. "The second was the day out on my birthday, the third was when you, Ohhh, this is lovely."

She held up the quill and inspected the engravings. She put it back in its box carefully before picking up the journal. She traced a finger over the circular filigree.

"The symbolism behind circles says a lot of things that I am not good at articulating," I whispered. Like bonds and eternity.

She flipped the book open and saw the quote I had written there. She read it aloud. "Doubt that the stars are fire, doubt that the sun doth move his aides, doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love. It's Shakespeare."

She leaned forward and kissed me tenderly. "The third gift was when you told me you loved me."

"I do, very much so."

"I love you, too. Can we never fight again?"

"I doubt it." I smiled widely as I took the book from her and pulled her into my arms. "Where were we earlier when I so rudely interrupted?"

"Right about here," Hermione murmured before capturing her lips with mine. She did not hesitate in pressuring my mouth open and tracing my lips with her tongue. I returned the favour and my mouth and throat tingled with the pleasure of her taste. She tasted like coffee and just her. She was my milk and honey and I couldn't get enough.

I wasted no time in pushing her onto her back and moving on top of her as we continued to kiss. Soon our hands were roaming outside our clothes like earlier. I stopped long enough to take off my robes and toss them on the floor.

"More," Hermione said, her eyes a darkened with desire. My cock throbbed at the sight of her wanting me and she wasn't even naked. "Take off your jacket too."

I stripped to just my pants and white linen shirt and then climbed back on top of her. She adjusted herself underneath me so that I was cradled in between her legs and I nearly whimpered with need. Soon kissing was not enough and I had her shirt over head and I stared at her bra covered breasts for a little too long. I couldn't help myself, she was wondrous and I wanted to memorise her in every stage of undress. Hermione smiled and ran her hands through my hair. I wanted to strip her bra off, but I was waiting for some sort of signal from her so I kissed her while kneaded her breasts. She fidgeted underneath me for a moment freeing it herself.

I moved from her mouth to her breasts and took her nipple in between my lips. She gasped as I flicked it with my tongue and her hips arched into mine. I ground back fighting the urge to just start rocking against her. Hermione pulled at my hair to bring my face back up to hers and I kissed her again, but I couldn't get my hands off her chest. She unbuttoned my shirt and had it pushed off my shoulders. I could feel her tracing the scars across the visible part of chest. I saw the on one her chest too and kissed it in acknowledgement of her battle wounds as she acknowledged mine.

"Severus, I want more, please. Let's move to your bedroom."

"How much more?" I asked her needing to hear from her lips exactly how far she wanted to go.

"I want all of you," she whispered pushing her hips up into my rock hard erection.

"I won't last, Hermione." I wasn't going to be afraid to admit that.

She kissed me again, delving her tongue deep into my mouth while she ran her hands down the length of my body and over my arse. Then she twisted them around and rubbed them on the outside of my pants right over cock. I shuddered.

"I don't need you to last," she moaned into my mouth. "Supposed to hurt the first time anyway. We'll do it twice."

I didn't care that it was almost three in the morning, and that we were in my quarters at school. I only cared that I wanted the goddess before me in all her naked divinity. Before the nerves could take over, I stood up, held out my hand, and when she took it, led her to my bed.

* * *

**You want the rest of that lemon? Then I need reviews. Just kidding, I like cliff-hangers because I like being evil, not because I am withholding for reviews! Hook me up anyway though and I might find some time to get next chapter up sooner. On a serious note, I had to do some revising and parts of this chapter I moved up in the story because there was some confusion earlier. For those of you who were confused, I hope this clarifies. Not going into any more detail on that here. Thanks for all of your lovely reviews. I am a little behind in responding, but I will catch up!!!**


	21. All Hell Shall Stir For This

Disclaimer: I am not JKR

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 21

All Hell Shall Stir For This

"I'm nervous," Hermione said after I had led her into my room. My bed was a standard Hogwarts four poster without the hangings. Hermione passed her eyes over the furnishings. They were simple and old, just like everything else in my quarters. "I was expecting to see green blankets for some reason."

"I prefer blue," I responded as I pulled her close to me on the bed. I had pulled the duvet back revealing my clean and crisp white sheets. I am very particular about my sheets, I like high thread counts and pure cotton blends. I was having a difficult time taking my eyes off of Hermione's exposed top. Her breasts were perfectly curved and slightly flushed from a combination of embarrassment at being exposed and desire. I pushed her back onto a pillow and covered her mouth with my lips and her breast with my hand. She moaned and leaned into me. When I broke away from her she was looking at my chest with disapproval. My shirt was still hanging on me and I thought perhaps she didn't like my scars so I quickly pulled my shirt back over my shoulders.

"No, Severus, you are wearing far too many clothes. It just won't do." Hermione pushed me off of her slightly and sat up so that she could pull my shirt all the way off. She dragged her hands down my shoulders kissing the scars on my skin. She was so gentle I could barely feel her fingers, but at the same time my skin was twitching with oversensitivity to her touch. She went for my belt buckle next and I swallowed thickly.

"You don't seem nervous," I whispered throatily, unable to find my voice.

"Neither do you," she said with a small smile as she unbuttoned my pants and pulled down my zipper. Her fingers grazed my cock as she brought her hand down and it gave a great twitch. She pulled her hand back in shock, but was grinning. "They really do have a mind of their own don't they?"

"You have no idea." I couldn't take it anymore. I pushed her down and pulled off her pants and underwear in one swift movement. I was impressed with my agility considering my hands were shaking. I stood up and pulled off my own lower garments. We stilled for a moment as we took in each other's naked bodies. "You are exquisite, Hermione. Everything about you is beautiful."

Hermione blushed and reached for me to come into the bed. "So are you."

I disagreed. I never would have considered myself fully attractive, but I was not about to argue. Especially not after the burning skin of our blushing bodies made contact. I could go mad in her arms she felt so good next to me. I was beyond small talk and nervous joking and I pulled her into a feverish kiss covering her body with mine. My penis was pressed up against her hip and I know she could feel it pulsing. I tried not to over think what I was doing and used her sighs and moans as my guide. Being inexperienced was beginning to matter and less and less as we moved together and our hands explored. Her nipples were rock hard little pebbles and when I flicked them with my tongue she gasped and arched, widening her legs automatically. I slipped in between her legs so that my length was pressed against her warm heat. I could feel how wet she was on my own throbbing and sensitive skin. I nearly came. I shifted again a little as she lifted her hips into mine sliding against my cock.

I brought my lips to hers and kissed with every ounce of love and emotion I could put forth as I slid a finger into her wet folds. We both groaned with pleasure. I had never felt anything so silky, warm, and moist in my life. I stroked her and flicked at her sensitive nub for a minute before I pushed on finger inside her. She arched her back and pressed into me pushing my hand tighter against her and I could feel her hymen. If there was any lingering doubt of her virginity I had the proof right there. Not that I needed it. She reached down as well and took my length in her hand. I don't know what possessed me, but I actually growled as I swatted her hand away.

"Not if you want to do this tonight," I hummed into her ear. I was done waiting. Too many pent up years of sexual repression were bursting to get free. If I made it inside her and managed one stroke before I shot off, I would consider the night a success. "I need you now, my love. Tell me it is all right."

"More than all right, please, Severus," she said barely audibly. Her eyes were almost as black as mine as they darkened with desire. I did not need any more reassurance, it was time.

I positioned myself directly above her and using my hand I guided myself in. She was tight, but liquid hot and yielding. I was barely inside her when I felt the hymen, I hadn't realised how shallow it was when I was touching her. I knew enough about female anatomy to know that I was going to be stretching that delicate skin to the point of tearing and I had a fleeting moment of regret that I was going to hurt her.

"Do it," she groaned a little louder moving her hips against me. That was all it took, her hymen broke completely and I pushed myself the rest of the way in. I was buried to the hilt and had to stop moving. There was a fleeting flash of pain in Hermione's eyes, and a lone tear trickled down her cheek. She was so tight that it almost hurt against my throbbing cock, but I still wouldn't move. I wanted to memorise how she felt at that moment. Hermione reached down and gripped my buttocks, lifted her knees and rocked gently to encourage me to move. I knew I wasn't going to last.

"I can't even begin to describe how this feels," I said after the first couple of strokes. "There are no words."

I could see that my strokes were hurting her slightly and that was the only thing that kept me from coming on the spot. Soon her eyes changed and I could feel her getting wetter as some of the pain subsided. I shifted position slightly and plunged in again and she let out a small mewling sound and threw her head back. She looked so sexy with her chest pushed up and her hair splayed across the pillow I finally lost it.

"Hermione, Hermione," I groaned as I felt my release spread all the way to my toes and fingers. My whole body shuddered with the intensity of my orgasm, my eyes never leaving Hermione's. I collapsed on top of her and took a few shuddering breaths. I pressed my face into her neck not caring that she could feel the moisture from my eyes. I was actually crying with pleasure.

"Severus, look at me," Hermione said nudging my head up. I slipped out of her when I moved and my penis immediately felt cold. She gave a disappointed sigh. "I love feeling you inside of me."

"Didn't it hurt? I could see that I hurt you," I said apologetically. "I wasn't able to satisfy you."

Disappointment washed over me as I thought I might have made her first time as unmemorable for her as it was wonderful for me.

"Don't be silly. It hurt, but towards the end it was different. We knew it was going to hurt, Severus. I love you and all that matters is that you feel good. There will be plenty of opportunities for me later," she said leaning up and kissing my nose. "You make me happy."

She made me happy too, but being genuinely happy was unfamiliar to me. Simply saying, 'you make me happy, too' was far too trite of a thing for me. Instead I said nothing and pulled her close to me. I wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly. She sighed and nestled close to me. I was ecstatic, happier than I had ever been, but I also felt a sense of foreboding. It was nothing related to Hermione, I did not fear for my relationship with _her,_ but I intuited that the scales were too much in my favour and that something was going to happen to restore the balance. I wanted to believe that it was my time honoured pessimism holding me back, but the tingling in my veins could not be explained by love and lust alone.

I was afraid.

Hermione slept for a couple of hours after we made love and I watched her the whole time. I figured unless we snuck to my rooms or into my house again it would be Christmas before we could be together intimately once more. Minerva was right. Introducing sex into the equation made it infinitely more difficult to be around each other in public without acknowledging our feelings. It was easier for me to be stony and silent around her lest I slip and give everything away altogether. The first couple of days after were difficult, but soon Hermione understood and things appeared as normal as they ever were. I could not look at her without seeing her naked so to anyone else it would appear that I had returned my old routine of paying her no attention unless she pestered me with questions, which she did not.

Potter was the only person who seemed to notice my coldness, other than Hermione, and on Monday he stayed for detention with a much surlier attitude than was warranted.

"What is going on between you and Hermione?" he demanded.

I motioned to the pile of dirty first year cauldrons and the rags next to it. I promised Hermione that I would be the one to tell Harry what was indeed going on, and I was going to make good on my promise, but I wasn't going to ignore his contempt. He glared at me for a moment with those piercing green eyes, before muttering something unintelligible under his breath and taking a rag and the first of the cauldrons.

"I realise I am still a student, but I think I have earned an answer. What is going on with you and _my_ friend? You have both been different since you came back, and I know she has been spending all her free periods in here." He resolutely avoided my eyes as he stabbed the rag into the cauldron.

"If you know what Hermione is doing during her free time, then it must be because she told you, in which case you need no explanation from me," I replied.

I could see him blushing with guilt. He was painfully terrible at hiding his emotions. "She didn't tell me anything. She hardly tells me anything anymore."

"So you spy on her?" I asked agitated.

"I don't follow her around, if that is what you mean," he said glaring at me.

"Then I demand you tell me how you know she is with me." I took a step towards him and towered over him. He started to shrink back, but then held his ground.

"You won't tell me what I want to know."

"Information will only come by exchange, Potter. I understand you have frustrations where I am concerned, but I will not tolerate your insolence. You requested that I leave you alone, and I am doing so, but when I happen across you and your girlfriend in flagrante, I have no choice but to act. War hero or not, you are still a student." I fought to keep my voice even.

Harry's face changed from angry to confused to suspicious in a matter of seconds. "I do not recall asking you to leave me alone, yet this is the second time you mention it."

"No? You can't recollect ever telling me to leave you alone?"

"Why are you being so cryptic, Professor?" he asked angrily. "I said I don't remember. I only want to know what is going on between you and Hermione. She has been acting strange about you for months and I don't want her getting hurt."

"I am not being cryptic, Potter," I replied testily. "I am going to tell you everything you want to hear, but you need to meet me halfway. Think. Is there ever a time when you told me to leave you alone?"

"I don't know what you are tal—" Harry cut himself off and his mouth formed an 'o' of surprise. "You heard me when you were in a coma?"

I nodded curtly. "Yes."

"Everything?"

"Do not try my patience."

"What does that have to do with Hermione? Did she talk to you too?"

I nodded once more.

"That first day when I saw her crying because of something you said, did it have to do with what she told you while you were out?"

His deductive reasoning skills had indeed improved. He had gleaned as much from the situation as he possibly could. I was going to give him more, but not until he told me how he knew that Hermione was with me.

"It had something to do with it. Tell me how you know where she is spending her time," I said again.

"I can't tell you."

"Then that puts me in an unfortunate position," I replied menacingly.

"How so?" he asked. The cauldron lay abandoned on the desk. He hadn't cleaned a single bit of grime out of it yet.

"I made a promise to someone very important to me that I would tell you the truth, so I will, but you have yet to prove that you can be trusted. You can tell me how you know, or I can invade your mind and find out that way. We both know how easy that will be for me," I sneered. It would give me an incredible amount of pleasure to invade his mind just to make my point, but I wouldn't do it.

Harry's face reddened with anger and he twisted the rag around his clenched fist. He was avoiding my eyes and I could see him warring with himself.

"Just tell me, Potter, how you know. If you value your friendship you will reveal your secrets, or you could inadvertently hurt her and damage her reputation." I could simply tell him what was going on and spare us both the drama, but I felt I had to goad him into telling the truth. Telling him that he was a potential threat to Hermione loosened his tongue.

"If I tell you, you cannot take it from me," he said. "And you must keep it a secret."

"Likewise," I said.

"So, does that mean you are going to tell me?"

I nodded.

"I have a map, made by my father and his friends that shows the location of every person inside the castle," Harry said.

I froze. If such a map existed, not only was it an enormously useful tool, but in the wrong hands it could have been disastrous. I had so many things I wanted to snap at him I didn't know where to begin. Then I remembered where exactly Hermione was on Saturday night. If Potter knew that, it was no wonder he was so angry.

"May I see it?" I asked as politely as I could.

"Not until you tell me about Hermione," he replied folding his arms over his chest.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed deeply. I had to keep reminding myself that developing a cordial relationship with Potter would be good for my relationship with Hermione. It was the only thing that kept me from putting my hands around his scrawny little neck and squeezing until his eyes bulged.

"Put down that rag and come into my office."

Harry dropped it and followed me to my office. I closed the door behind him and summoned an elf to bring us tea. I made myself a cup and gestured for Harry to do the same. He did so, but eyed me warily the whole time.

"I did hear everything Granger told me when I was in a coma. I was in a temporary limbo where my spirit was separate from my body so I could see and hear everything that went on around me. Hermione visited with me and told me some things that she was not expecting me to hear, but when I did, I realised that I was not particularly adverse to the sentiments," I said. I took a long sip of my drink and waited for the information to seek in.

"She told you how she felt about you?"

I gestured the affirmative and waited for the next inevitable question. "But if you were okay with it, why was she so upset when you talked the first time? She seems so happy now."

"I was able to manipulate objects while in my spirit form," I held up a hand to stave off his interruption. "There are many details of that time that I am going to omit for practical and personal purposes, in due time you will receive the answers you are looking for. I used my ability to make contact with Hermione and during the months of my coma we spent a considerable amount of time getting to know each other. When I woke I could not, and still do not remember everything from that time, but I did remember her, and caring for her. She was angry with me because I admitted remembering, but did not send for her as soon as I woke."

"I can see that," Harry muttered. I felt my lips tug at the corner in agreement.

"Needless to say, Potter, I earned her forgiveness and we have been cultivating our relationship since then. She has been immensely afraid of how you would feel about it, and therefore I told her I would be the one to break the news to you. Now that you know I have to ask you keep it to yourself. Once she completes her NEWTs we will be free to pursue our relationship publicly, but until then her reputation and my job are at stake." I drained my tea and poured a fresh cup. It was soothing my nerves. Minerva was the only other soul besides Hermione who knew these things and I couldn't help feeling vulnerable and exposed. I may as well of been telling my enemies how to defeat me.

"I thought you loved my mum!" Harry blurted out. "It is why you spied this whole time, and your Patronus."

"I did love your mother for many years, and yes she did prompt me to be a spy, but it was guilt that drove me. I wanted to leave Voldemort anyway, but it was not until he killed her that I finally understood I could never trust him. You have to understand how very young and impressionable I was. I made many mistakes during that time that I will never be able to rectify, but I will die trying. Your mother, as perfect as she is made out to be, was unforgiving and cruel at the moment when I needed her help the most." I waited for his outburst and was not disappointed.

"You called her a Mudblood!" he shouted.

"A childish mistake I made at sixteen when I was being taunted and embarrassed by your father and his friends," I snapped. "I daresay you made a more disastrous mistake when you used my curse against Draco nearly killing him at the exact same age."

Harry snapped his mouth shut and looked properly chagrined.

"I apologised over and over, but your mother refused to forgive me and ran straight into your father's arms. Lily was never mine to begin with, and now you want to refuse me the happiness I have found in Hermione because I am supposed to still be attached to your mother? Someone who never loved me back, and has been dead for seventeen years?" I asked imploring him to see my side and understand.

He paused before speaking and when he did it was with a defeated tone. "I suppose not, it is just the memories you showed me didn't feel like that. When I saw your Patronus I was convinced you still loved her because you told Dumbledore it would always be a doe." Harry was swirling the dregs of his tea around in his cup and staring at them as if divining them.

"And so I expect it always will be. My Patronus is a doe because I loved her; hers was a doe because James' was a stag. I knew then that I would lose her to him, but I did not stop trying. The doe is a reminder of what I have lost, and I do not like to forget my past lest I make the same mistakes again. You really have no idea how cruel your father and his merry band of thieves were to me, Potter. That does not justify my taking it out on you all these years, but I had a role to play and your resemblance to your father made it all too easy," I admitted.

Harry put his tea down and met my eyes. "I know that he was cruel. I am not like him. I couldn't have just stayed at home while there was a war going on around me. I never would have picked on someone like that either."

"I know that. I always knew that. You are more like your mother in that way. Don't hold grudges, Potter, that is some of the best advice I can offer you."

"I don't hold a grudge against you," he said quietly not meeting my eyes.

"I wasn't referring to myself." I could feel his sadness coming off of him in waves. The poor boy needed help.

He looked back into my eyes again as if looking for some sort of hint as to whom I meant. There was no need; I could see he understood my meaning quite well. I harboured resentment towards my father for many, many years for torturing my mother and I, and my mother for putting up with it. Neither of us said anything for a full minute while Harry digested the new information.

"How much do you care for Hermione? Are you more than friends? I know that is what she wants," he asked fighting to keep the bitterness out of his tone.

"I do care for her as much more than friends, Potter," I said keeping my voice gentle so he did not become angry again. It was a simple thing to do when it was Hermione I was talking about. Apparently he did not see us together in my bedroom on that map of his, or he would be hexing my bits off for sure. "The last thing I would want to do is hurt her. I am in great danger of being hurt by her."

"I think I get that," he said. "I don't know what to say. I told Hermione that I thought her choice was really bad, but that was when I thought you would push her away because you loved my mum."

I didn't respond. There was nothing more to discuss. We had already made significant progress over the course of the conversation and I did not want to approach thin ice. Potter reached into his bag and pulled out a bit of parchment that I recognised. I specifically remembered that paper making a rude comment about my large greasy nose. Harry spread it open on my desk and tapped it with his wand.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

I could not contain my astonishment as I saw the castle displayed in great detail. I reached for the map and scanned it from corner to corner looking at the names and their locations. Even the ghosts were listed as they floated about. Several student's names were difficult to read being on top of each other. I imagined Hermione Granger and Severus Snape would have looked exactly the same two nights ago. Every secret passageway except for the one I used to sneak out of as a Death Eater was present on the map.

"This could have been very dangerous if it had fallen in the wrong hands," I said.

"Lupin said the same thing the night you discovered me out with it. He said it was a poor way to pay my parents back for protecting me, but I had saw Pettigrew on the map and was trying to find him. He was Ron's rat, you know," Harry said.

"Yes, I know." The details of that wretched night were permanently etched in my brain. Before I knew of Black's innocence I wanted nothing more than for him to be kissed. I hated Death Eaters who went free then, and I do now. I didn't know he wasn't a Death Eater. Only Voldemort knew who all his followers actually were.

"The Room of Requirement does not show on here," I commented.

Harry shrugged. "Never did. It was the only place that was safe. We used the map to get around during fifth year when we were doing Dumbledore's Army. It's also how I knew that was where Malfoy was hiding when he fixed the Vanishing Cabinet. I expect it's ruined now because of Fiendfyre."

"I heard about that. Despite what Crabbe did, the room should still work. The castle is more powerful than Fiendfyre. Try it sometime, with Miss Weasley perhaps."

"Right," Harry sighed. "I'll get back to my detention."

"No, Potter," I said. "You're finished here. I will grant you my discretion as long as you are careful, and as long as you return the favour. It will not be for long."

"I won't tell anyone. Do you want me to tell Hermione I know?"

"I think that would be best. Go now, and tell Miss Weasley that she does not have to come tomorrow."

Harry nodded, collected his map, and left.

Halloween took place on a Saturday that year and also coincided with the first Quidditch match of the season. Even Hermione took a rare few hours away from her studies so that she could attend the match. As was tradition the game was Slytherin versus Gryffindor. Draco did not reclaim the seeker spot he gave up in sixth year, and Vaisey and Goyle were both replaced by fourth years. The team did not stand a chance against Gryffindor. Potter had the benefit of a team that had flown together for years on top of the advantage that they were all close friends and needed few words to move swiftly across the pitch as one fluid entity. The Slytherins were distrustful of each other and the game was a disaster. Potter caught the Snitch out of mercy when the Gryffindor team was up by three hundred and twenty points to forty.

Hermione sat with Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom. She was happy and cheering and I was pleased to see it. There was a marked difference in her demeanour when she told me that Harry had told her he'd spoken to me. It was if a great weight was lifted off her shoulders and by proxy, mine. I watched Draco in the stands sit by himself in the corner behind all the other Slytherins. He was alone as usual and it was so disconcerting to see him that way. He was always surrounded by several friends and followers in the past. He was watching the sky, but about a quarter of the way into the game it became clear that it was not in search of the Snitch. He was clearly waiting for something else.

Just after Potter caught the snitch and three quarters of the stands erupted into loud and raucous cheering, a brown standard post office owl dropped a letter right into my hands. I caught Draco looking at me when I got it and saw him hastily push through the throng of students to make his way down. Most of the teachers around were oblivious to the owl, but Minerva who was right next to me looked at me suspiciously. I shrugged, but opened the owl thinking perhaps it was a message from Hermione. It was indeed not from Hermione.

_Truth made you a traitor as it often does in a time of scoundrels*. You will pay for your treason for I will rob you of you everything you hold dear._

I looked across the stands again and saw that Draco was gone, as was Hermione. I knew that she would not, could not have disappeared from inside the Quidditch stadium, but my panicked heart was threatening to beat right out of my chest for fear she was gone. It was Draco that I needed to find. I knew who sent the letter, it was Yaxley and Dolohov, and all the signs were there. They had been following me around and I knew that thanks to Hermione, but I had yet to tell Minerva. I should have, but I was hesitant to appeal to the Order for help. They would be distrustful of me, and justifiably so.

"Severus!" Minerva gasped. "What is the matter? You are ashen."

I looked around me and saw that I was alone in the teacher's stand with Minerva. I thrust the letter into her hand. "We need to talk, but first I must find Draco and Hermione."

I exited the stands and pushed my way through the students on the ground until I saw Vector talking to the disgruntled Slytherin players. I nodded at the team and pulled her aside. I whispered in her ear that I needed Draco sent to the Headmistress's office immediately and then pushed away again to try to find him myself first. Minerva was right on my heels, but she knew better than to seek an explanation yet. Once inside the Great Hall I scanned the crowd. I could see Hermione's head bobbing along next to Harry and Ginny's heading up the stairs.

"I will get Miss Granger," Minerva said going in that direction and calling Hermione's name. Hermione heard her and turned around to greet Minerva. I managed to make short eye contact with her before heading towards the dungeons. Her eyes shifted from cheerful to worry in a fraction of a section when she saw me. It was her that I was frightened for. She was what I held most dear. We were careful, but that does not mean we were careful enough. I couldn't shake the feeling that Draco knew something, and the feeling of foreboding I'd felt when Hermione was in my arms had come clawing at my gut again.

I had one of the Slytherin prefects get Draco out of his dorm for me. He was going to turn away again when he saw me, but fortunately Vector arrived just in time to summon him to Minerva's office just as I had asked.

"I will escort him," I said to Septima and I placed a firm hand on Draco's arm and stalked away with him. He tried to fight me off, but my grip was crushing, bruising his arm.

"What are you doing?" he hissed. "You need to stay far away from me."

"I gathered that," I snarled in return. "But it isn't going to happen and you are going to tell me what you are hiding whether you want to or not."

I made a quick detour into the potions storeroom and retrieved a vial of Veritaserum.

"You wouldn't dare," Draco said.

"Or what? You'll do nothing." I continued dragging him into Minerva's office ignoring the few students milling about who stopped to stare.

When we arrived Minerva and Hermione were sitting at the desk deep in discussion. Hermione had Draco's note in his hand.

"What is she doing in here?" Draco demanded suspiciously.

Minerva played the part well. "Hermione and I were visiting as I am wont to do with my Apprentice. What is the meaning of this interruption, Severus?"

"Miss Granger, if you will please step outside of the office for a moment, I am sure this will not take long." I pushed Draco further inside. "I apologise Headmistress to interrupt, but this cannot wait."

I stepped outside the office with Hermione and whispered quickly in her ear. "Wait here, I will explain in a moment."

With my fear for Hermione's safety alleviated I was able to turn my wrath on Draco. Bringing Minerva into it felt rash, but I wanted to ensure his protection if necessary and only the Order could provide it. Before I even said anything I met Draco's eyes and sent a painful probe into his mind for information on Yaxley or Dolohov. Draco was skilled at Occlumency, having been taught by Bellatrix, but I was better and had him backed into a chair and writhing with the force of my invasion. Soon his defences broke and a vision of Yaxley swam to the forefront of his brain. I pulled back and gave him a moment to control himself. He pulled out his wand, but Minerva disarmed him.

"I demand to know what is going on, right now. Was Legilimency really necessary, Severus?" she asked, and then handed Draco his wand back. He snatched it angrily.

"Yes. How long have you been in contact with Yaxley and Dolohov?" I asked Draco ignoring Minerva. I heard her gasp at my accusation.

"I haven't been!" he yelled.

I lifted the bottle of Veritaserum. "Don't lie to me. If you are still involved with Death Eater activity confess now, Draco. We still can help you. You have an opportunity to stop before you let it ruin your life."

"I'm not!" Draco's eyes filled with tears. "They found me while I was doing community service in Hogsmeade. They have been torturing my mother for lying to the Dark Lord about Potter. They threaten to kill my father the moment he gets out of prison and the things they say they will do to her if I don't deliver you are awful."

I faltered in my anger. "Why not deliver me then?"

"Because I know you did not do anything wrong. They poisoned me once already. They put the wintergreen oil in the mint juleps I was drinking at the Three Broomsticks. I thought it was Madam Rosmerta serving drinks, but it was Dolohov in Polyjuice. Rosmerta was in her rooms knocked out. Dolohov said he erased her memory of the event. He said that was just a taste of what was to come," Draco was openly weeping. "I swear it's the truth. I snuck out to Hogsmeade that day because they summoned me and I wanted to get caught, but I didn't. Nobody was paying attention and I flew out of the grounds on my broom. I went to Rosmerta's thinking it would get reported here, but the place was deserted except for a few a people."

Draco wiped at his face. "Go on," I encouraged.

"On the first actual Hogsmeade visit they found me again and tortured me for information about you, but I had none to give other than that you are busy teaching. I don't talk to you because I don't want to give them any information. You need to stay away from me!" Draco cried.

Minerva stared from Draco to me and back again. I leaned against her desk and sucked in a great breath. Nobody knew anything about Hermione so she was still safe. Draco had been protecting me the whole time. I hadn't noticed him leave, but I did remember him not being at dinner that night. I needed to pay more attention. I loved Hermione, but she truly was a distraction. That wasn't right, she was not a distraction, I just lived in a time that was never peaceful and refused to leave me free to love.

"It is not your responsibility to protect me, Draco," I said quietly as I dragged a hand down my face. My future felt bleak.

"You protected me."

"Mr. Malfoy," Minerva said gently. "We can help you. It sounds like Dolohov and Yaxley are being sloppy. We can stop this for you."

"There will be others! This kind of thing never goes away," Draco rebuffed. He was staring at his lap.

"Yes it will," I said. "These things always go away; it just takes time and a few errant arrests after the war. It happened last time, it will happen again. I refuse to spend my life looking over my shoulder and you should do the same."

Draco just looked up at me as if grateful to finally be talking to me again. He could never know how much my heart swelled to see him looking at me with respect again.

Minerva stepped around her desk and offered Draco a glass of whiskey. He sniffed it before taking a sip. "Draco, isn't your mother under house arrest until May?"

"Yes," Draco said unsure of what Minerva was getting at.

"And your father has two years in prison, am I correct?"

Draco nodded affirmative.

"Hmm, I know traditionally the Ministry only monitors people under house arrest to ensure they do not leave. The floos are deactivated, but that does not stop anybody from just entering the house if they wish. It is a double edged sword, decreased warding to allow Ministry supervision at the risk of unwanted visitors. I think I will visit with Kingsley to see what changes can be made." Minerva was on one of her planning out loud rants again.

"Draco, what have they asked about me?" I wanted to know.

Draco shrugged. "Nothing really important. Just what you do during the day and how often you leave. I told them you are kind of a loner and that I don't trust you anymore. It was a lie, but I had to say something. They said they were going to send you some sort of warning that they are watching you, but I don't know what they know. Dolohov was excited about something last Saturday, but when he tortured me and I couldn't confirm whatever it is he wanted to know, he let me go. When I saw that owl I figured it must be the warning."

I could venture a guess as to what he was excited about, but I didn't want to be right.

"Draco, go to your common room and stay there. If you receive anymore messages you come straight to me or Severus, do you understand? We need your cooperation if we are to help you and your mother and catch these men." Minerva was eyeing him sternly. "If Miss Granger is still waiting, tell her to give us a few more minutes."

Draco was not gone for more than two minutes before Hermione came barging back into the office, my note still clutched in her hand. I reached out and pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her hug. I could hear several portraits clearing their throats and making comments, but Minerva just smiled. Hermione pushed away from me blushing brightly. I could feel the bright spots of colour on my cheeks as well.

"What is going on?" she said waving the note in the air.

"Dolohov and Yaxley have made contact with Draco, and I feared they were coming after you. I do not think they know about you, but on the off chance they do I wanted to know where you were. Draco suspects nothing so he was not able to give us away. I think they are going to try to find me in my new home." I sat down in one of the chairs in front of Minerva's desk and Hermione joined me in the other. She picked up Draco's unfinished glass of whiskey and downed it.

"So you don't go back there until they are caught," Hermione said simply.

"I will not bow down to them, Hermione," I snapped back.

Minerva held up a hand. "Now, Severus, I think Hermione is right. You should stay away from there, at least until we figure out a way to catch them."

"That is simple; I spend time there and lure them in. Or, I could feed Draco information to pass onto them so that we can catch them. Vengeance is foolish, and they will make mistakes, they always do." I was not going to avoid the home I had grown very fond of for this. I was going to build a future in that home and fill it with love, Hermione, and maybe even children someday. I was sick to death of waiting. "I will find them if I have to, but not as a spy. Now I fight openly for what I know is right."

"Admirable sentiments, Severus, but full of Gryffindor foolhardiness," Minerva said smiling. I couldn't disagree with her, but I could not be swayed either. She could see my resolve in my face. "Severus, allow me to alert the Order and at least speak with Kingsley. In the meantime, I am going to ask you to stay on Hogwarts grounds. Perhaps it would be best if you did not leave either, Miss Granger."

I neither agreed nor disagreed to staying on grounds, but I did consent for her to consult Kingsley as the new head of the Order. An Order that would have been disbanded in a perfect world, but Voldemort will return again someday, he will just be somebody else. Minerva allowed Hermione and me floo to my quarters so that we could have some time to talk.

"Just floo back in here and leave through my office in time for the feast, Hermione," Minerva said. I offered her a small smile in gratitude.

"What are you going to do really, Severus?" Hermione asked the moment we stepped out of the fireplace. "You have to stay safe."

I wiped some soot of the pinched skin in between her eyes. I bent over and kissed the spot and wrapped my arms around her back. "I don't know yet."

"At least promise you won't go anywhere tonight." She wrapped her arms around my waist and squeezed tight. "Please."

"I promise," I said before pulling her away and kissing her gently at first, and then hungrily. It was the first kiss we had shared since making love. I was beginning to wonder how we even survived dancing around each other. It was becoming physically painful. "We have over an hour before the Halloween feast."

Hermione smiled and pulled out her wand. With two casual flicks we were both naked in front of each other. I smiled my appreciation. She was a thousand times more beautiful than I remembered. My cock hardened immediately and she smiled as she watched it grow. I was determined to pleasure her this time and I wasted no time in touching every square inch of her body with my hands and my tongue. I moved my hands from her feet into her warm folds and was pleased when I could insert my fingers fully inside of her. She moaned and ground against me.

"More," she demanded.

My mouth was watering and I glanced up at her for a moment, but she was not watching me. Her back was arched and she was squeezing one of her own breasts. I reached up and grabbed the other one with one hand and spread her labia with the other. She nearly screamed when I plunged my tongue inside and licked all the way up. Her hips bucked against my face and she moaned my name as I sucked and licked her delectable fluids. After a couple of minutes she wrapped her fingers in my hair and pulled up hard.

"I need you in me now, Severus. I want to finish with you inside me," she gasped.

I was all too happy to comply. I plunged inside of her and she gasped again, but in pleasure and not pain. She wrapped around me like a cocoon and I had to fight to not ram into her. I steadied my rhythm to make myself last as long as possible. She was still matching me stroke for stroke and the moment I felt her walls tighten and convulse, I released. I collapsed next to her panting, but sated.

"You are a natural," Hermione whispered. Her chest was heaving and her delicious breasts were flushed and sweaty.

"So are you," I said. It truly was amazing. It was fast and passionate, and it was everything I imagined our mutual pleasure to be. It only made me long for the next time we could be a little slower about it. "I love you, Hermione." I couldn't tell her enough.

"I love you too, but we have to go." She jumped out of bed and cleaned herself quickly before dressing. She stopped to give me a long kiss before slipping into the floo.

"Don't do anything dangerous," she called before disappearing.

I didn't. I stayed at the Halloween feast from beginning to end. My appetite was large and I noticed that even Hermione ate more than usual, as did Draco. He still looked withdrawn and anxious, but it was less so than before, and he even engaged in some conversation with Daphne Greengrass. I was beginning to think perhaps I was wrong about Millicent Bulstrode. She didn't seem to be paying him any attention. It could have been any number of things with her, and I made a mental note to ask Draco if he suspected her of anything the moment we could talk freely again. At least the mystery of Draco's poisoning had been solved, not that the solution was anything to be relieved about.

A little before midnight I retrieved my broom from my rooms and went outside. I flew from the front doors down to the lake and savoured the cold night air as it whipped my hair away from my face. I landed by Dumbledore's tomb and picked up a smooth round stone off the ground. I put it on top of the marble tomb, but I could see that my stone was not the first. There were several others already there along with food scattered along the banks of the Black Lake. It was the same every year. Every year I came outside hoping Lily would come, but she never did. I got back on my broom and flew out over the lake. I hovered on the edge of the school grounds nearest Hogsmeade and looked over at the village I wanted to make my home. It was too dark to see the back of my house clearly, but I knew which direction to look in and from my high vantage point I could see the outline of the roofs on my street.

A minute before midnight I realised I was no longer alone. Hovering in mid air next to me was my reaper. The same I had seen in Godric's Hollow as a spirit those many nights ago. He had no face underneath the hood, but I could imagine eyes and a mouth just the same. I was so startled I nearly plunged off my broom and into the icy lake below. The reaper lifted his arm and my broom steadied. I was frightened and more than a little angry, if he was there to take my soul; I wanted him to get on with it.

"Well?" I said.

"Orcus has a message for you," the Reaper said. His voice was smooth and mellifluous and I found myself drawn to it. It made me fear him less.

"Is that what he is calling himself this week?" I chuckled. "What is it, then?"

"That you are doing well, but it is not over. He said to not make him regret giving you your life back."

"What have I done wrong?" I wanted to know. I was really trying to be worthy of my second chance.

The reaper looked over the water at the outline of houses that I was staring at moments before. I followed his gaze.

"It is not what you have done, but what you could do." The Reaper started to dissipate.

"Wait!" I shouted. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Death wants you to take care of yourself. Beware, it is midnight." He disappeared in a blinding flash of light. His disappearance was not the cause of light however, or the loud and thunderous explosion that followed, and when I realised what I was seeing I did lose control of my broom and I plunged towards the frigid waters of the Black Lake.

* * *

**A/N: *I remember hearing that line somewhere else, but can't remember where or who said it. Please review!!!**


	22. Give thy thoughts no tongue

Disclaimer: I am not JKR.

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 22

Give thy thoughts no tongue

The trouble with scrying stones was that you needed something personal that belongs to the person you wish to observe. Also, any person with a shred of self-awareness will know they are being watched. In a place like Hogwarts you feel eyes on you all the time, portraits, students, but they are primarily benign and easily ignored. The prickly feeling of malevolent eyes on me increased tenfold as I slipped off my broom and fell three or four feet before I envisioned myself with widening wings that found purchase on the cool lake air and sent me flying towards the smouldering wreckage of my new home. Yaxley had taken something I held dear from my home before he destroyed it and I intended to get it back. Unfortunately, he was watching me and knew I was coming. It is nearly impossible to catch someone who knows exactly where you are.

I skimmed the tops of the trees focusing on speed and not loftiness as I chanted the familiar incantation that sent my body soaring through space. I hated the fact that I was flying again out of a desperate anger, just like the last time when I flew to escape Minerva's wrath on that fateful day. I landed on the street that had become my own and mindlessly lifted my wand and pointed a spigot of water at the blazing house in front of me, oblivious to the other witches and wizards surrounding me doing the same. My soul tore a little as I watched my personal symbol of a normal future turn to ash. Not because of any particular sentimentality for something lost, but because of the knowledge of what I would do to the people who caused it. Causing another person intentional harm destroys the soul a little, regardless of what you are fighting for. You could see it in the deadened eyes of scores of students who wander the castle halls in between lessons.

When there was nothing left but a smoking pile of charcoal and crushed dreams I leapt into the air again and flew until dawn. The cold November air was like a soothing balm to the fiery rage that was building throughout my entire core. When I finally landed and snuck into the castle and into my rooms, I had come to one decision, and that was that Yaxley and Dolohov would suffer, and any other Death Eater I could get my greasy hands too.

I spared myself only a few moments to change my clothes and wash my face before I stalked off to Minerva's office. Thankfully it was early Sunday or I would not have been responsible for my actions should a stray student wander across my path. There was not one to be found after the long and raucous festivities from the night before. I imagined there were more than a few Gryffindors who could see the fire from their windows if they were paying any attention at all. There was probably one who would have, but I pushed thoughts of her to the back of my mind. I was not in the mood, nor did I have the time to think about her.

The gargoyle sprang aside when I approached it as if it was expecting me to arrive. No doubt that was the case and my assumption was proved correct when I saw Minerva in her office not clad in a tartan bathrobe, but fully dressed in sea green teaching robes.

"I heard about your house from Rosmerta, Severus. I am sorry for the loss." She didn't sound sorry. I would not have accepted it, but a part of me still wished to hear it. I did not respond. I could see she was not finished. "You are not resigning so that you can chase Death Eaters either."

"Why would I resign? Multitasking happens to be a talent of mine," I responded dryly.

"You are not going to go undercover again either, and neither are you going to ask Draco to do it for you."

"Do you propose I sit and do nothing?" I bit back sharply. "That is not how I operate and you know it."

"Let the Order and the Aurors handle this, Severus. I know you are angry, but you have done enough. If you take this into your own hands you could end up in prison if you make a mistake," she implored.

"You are assuming I will make a mistake." I had simply gone to her office to alert her to the fact that I would be leaving the castle frequently, and even that was going awry.

Minerva pressed her lips together in a prim line and scowled at me for a moment before responding. "You have not been yourself since you woke."

"I am trying to be better," I snapped. Apparently I couldn't satisfy anyone. Not Minerva, not death, and certainly not myself. "Clearly the efforts have been futile if you do not approve. Perhaps I should have discussed my behavioural plan with you before I began."

"That is not what I meant, and you know it," she retorted. "I will set up an Order meeting and invite you to it, but in the meantime, if you take any personal action, do try to be more Slytherin about it. I believe the students are getting used to the new you and it would not do to alarm them now. The obvious attack on you will spread through the school quickly and they will expect you to react badly, so don't."

I disagreed. If I pretended to ignore it, it would alert much more suspicion. I did not know what students were maintaining lines of communication with Voldemort's supporters, but I intended to find out. What I did with Draco was my business. He was of age, and my godson, and I would use that relationship to my advantage. I decided against sharing any of my plans with Minerva. After all, she had suggested that I be more 'Slytherin' leaving silence as the best policy.

"Very well, Headmistress," I said turning for the door. "Good day to you."

"Severus."

I stopped dead in my tracks because it was not Minerva who had spoken, but Dumbledore. I turned around slowly and stepped towards the portrait of the man who would haunt me for the rest of my life. I glared at him with all the fury and contempt I could summon into my face. The last thing I wanted to hear was whatever sage advice the old man had to offer now. He had contributed enough already. His painted mouth opened to speak, but then he closed it before opening it again as if changing his mind about what he was going to say.

"Nobody will force your hand this time, Severus. Don't do it if you don't want to," was all he said.

I wanted to snarl at him, but I restrained myself. "You were a gifted manipulator, Albus, but you take too much credit. I never do something I wish not to."

He did not look convinced as he raised his painted eyebrows. Minerva covered her mouth and looked at me with sympathy. It was that I could not take. I met her with a stony glare as if daring her to say something else, but she remained wisely silent. She was not going to stop me from doing anything I might plan and we both knew it.

I went directly back to my rooms to do nothing but think. I feared that I had made nothing but make mistakes since I woke. I had grown far too soft and Hermione had a lot to do with it, although if I were to be completely honest with myself I wanted to grow softer. Being continually sarcastic was wearisome. I never wanted to use my intelligence as a weapon, but it was all I had ever done. I tried too much too soon and Death could fuck off for all I cared. I didn't want him or anyone else to have a say in my decisions anymore. Except for Hermione. I couldn't bear the thought of losing her, and if any plan I came up with risked losing her I didn't think I could go through with it.

The hurt of losing my home was making it difficult for me to think clearly. Try as I might I could not ignore how much it pained me to lose it. Normalcy was slipping further and further away. After I disposed of Yaxley and Dolohov, living as a Muggle sounded like an attractive option. I spent the next few hours reviewing the wards I had used on the house. It was not unplottable or secret kept, and of course it was magically locked, but Yaxley had a gift with breaking and entering. We had worked together too often for him to not know my style as well. The stones he had used to spy on me were undoubtedly my own, stolen from the bowl on my mantle in my house on Spinner's End. To the untrained eye, they appeared as a decorative dish of pretty rocks. They are not very rare, but they are extremely difficult to use, and the fact that the person being watched knows it makes them not worth the effort. That led me to believe that they wanted me to know that he broke into my other home as well. There were other ways to locate a person that could go undetected. Yaxley may have been good with tearing down wards, but I could brew potions. Shortly after lunch a house elf delivered a letter to me.

_Severus,_

_I missed you at breakfast and lunch today. I heard a horrible rumour about a house blowing up in Hogsmeade from a fellow Gryffindor who is from there. I tried to speak with Minerva, but she has been unavailable as well. Oh, Severus, I don't want it to be true, but I think you know what I suspect. If you are in your quarters, please let me in._

_Hermione_

No sooner had I finished reading the letter there was a knock on the door. I was not going to answer at first, but my feet carried me to the door almost against my will. I stood before it for a full moment and waited for her to knock again before I pulled it open. I stood aside and waited for the swish of the cloak to pass me completely before I closed it again.

Hermione pulled the cloak off her head and paled as she looked at me.

"It was your house." She took two quick steps towards me with her hand outstretched, but I simply nodded and sidestepped her grasp.

She let her hand fall to her side and draped the invisibility cloak neatly over the back of a chair. "What are we going to do about it?"

I glanced at her sharply. I was equal parts thrilled that she was so loyal and annoyed that she thought I would let her have anything to do with my revenge.

"_We_ are not going to do anything about it. _I_ will do as I see fit."

Hermione nearly stamped her foot in frustration. Instead she repressed herself and tossed her wild mane of hair out of her face. "Why don't you trust me?"

"This has nothing to do with trusting you, Hermione. It is not your fight," I said knowing full well that it was wrong. She was my mate, and my fights were her fights, I just wouldn't allow it.

Hermione crossed her arms firmly over her chest and pressed her lips in a thin hard line. "Is that what you really think?"

"Can't you be satisfied that I do not want anything to happen to you? I have not been myself for some time, Hermione, but one thing I cannot do is grovel at your feet with declarations of love in order to get you to obey." I had turned away from her so I could not see her face, but from her disgusted sigh I could gather she was as annoyed as I was.

"Why are you so convinced that you are not being yourself? Maybe this side of you is who you have always wanted to be. Besides, letting me and the Order help you do not amount to weakness, or that you have grown soft." She had walked up behind me and rested a patient hand on my shoulder. "It simply means that you are sensible of the situation. Why risk your life unnecessarily?"

I turned around quickly and stepped right up to her. She took a step backwards, but I followed looming over her. I could feel the colour rising in my cheeks. "Are you in the Order, Hermione?"

"I have been invited. I have been fighting for them for three years already," she stammered stepping back, fear sparking in her eyes at my anger.

"Do not join officially just for this, Hermione," I growled menacingly. "You said you wanted out of the fighting which means you do not want to see what I will do to those who dare challenge me."

"I am not in the Order for your sake, Severus. Honestly you should hear yourself. I have seen death and have been at the brink of it myself. I am not afraid of that, and I am not afraid of you. I am only afraid of what could happen to you. There are ways I could participate that don't involve directly fighting. I am not an idiot. I know what my options are and I wish you would see past your rage to understand that. I'm angry too, damn it! I was hoping that would be my home some day as well. I have nowhere to go either, you know." The fear had left her eyes and I could see her retreating inside herself. By not acknowledging her part in any of this I was pushing her away. On one hand, distancing myself from her might have made the rest of the year a little easier, but on the other hand it would not have been worth how hard it would be to get her close again when it was all over.

She stood before me patiently waiting for a response. I wanted to say something sarcastic and mean to push her away despite my inclination not to. One thing Hermione said that I agreed with was that maybe I was a little softer than I'd let everyone believe. Dumbledore seemed to think so when he was alive. He never stopped reminding me that perhaps I was sorted too soon. He was not wrong. I could have been in Gryffindor. I asked for Slytherin to honour the Prince name. I had no desire to be any more of an embarrassment to that bloodline than I already was. I bit back my words and walked away to the bathroom. It never ceased to amaze me that no matter what was going on in a person's life, normal bodily functions remained unaffected. When I was finished Hermione had food waiting for me.

I sat down to the onion soup and fresh salad gratefully. I couldn't starve myself any better than I could hold my water. She sipped a cup of tea and browsed through a book while I ate. Despite how I was feeling I could still recognise how fortunate I was to be able to be with someone without having to entertain them all the time. When I was out of body I found it a paradox to be with Hermione and not have her barrage with me questions endlessly, but by then it had become something I counted on from her. She learned quickly when to be quiet, and I learned quickly when to pull out of a fight whether I agreed or not.

When there was nothing but dregs in my bowl she finally closed the book with a snap and looked at me.

"Better?"

"I am not Weasley, food doesn't make all of life's problems go away," I said acerbically. The corners of her lips twitched, but she did not smile. She looked disturbingly like a much younger Minerva.

"What are you going to do?" she asked after another moment.

I frowned. "Hermione, I am not going to discuss this with you anymore today."

"I meant about your house. Are you going to rebuild?"

I hadn't even thought about it up till that point, but the answer was simple. "I will think about it."

"Good," she said. "I have already spent the morning researching warding. I did plenty of it already while we were on the run last year. Obviously the ones I used were good because you couldn't even find us when you wanted to give Harry the sword so I figured maybe I could do the new wards when the house is rebuilt."

"Are you finished?" I snapped. "If you are quite through prattling on about your warding expertise I would like to be left alone."

She looked immediately contrite. "Severus, I wasn't trying to say you aren't any good at wards. I know that your wards wouldn't protect the house from getting blown up or anything, I was just saying that-"

Hermione trailed off and looked away. I could see tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. I felt no remorse for snapping at her, however, because I did want to be alone. I was exhausted and the warm soup was making me long for my bed. The tiredness outstripped my need to belittle her in self-defence. I settled for coldness.

"Go," I ordered quietly.

She didn't say another word, just gathered the cloak and leant over to kiss my cheek before throwing it over head and disappearing. I opened the door for her and closed it gently. Before I went to my bed, I touched my cheek where her face touched mine and felt the dampness left by her tears. There seemed to be no place in the world that we would be able to exist together without being followed by the war. I managed to shove the thoughts aside and clear my head long enough to sleep for a few hours.

Hermione remained aloof from me throughout the entire Order meeting that Minerva had called for late that same night. It was disheartening to see that the once thriving organisation during the first war against Voldemort had dwindled to a small group that fit relatively comfortably in Minerva's office. The addition of Hermione, Potter, and Weasley did not make a dent in replacing all those that had been lost. The meeting had already been in progress for quite some time before arrived. The room had the air of a group that had finally settled on their business and were merely waiting to deliver the verdict.

I did not worry about whether the Order members would accept me back into their fold anymore. If I had, it would have been needless because all seemed to be somewhat understanding in their own way. The Weasley's rightfully bore the largest grudge, and George made a particular show of turning and cupping his hand around the hole in the side of his head and leaning towards me when I spoke.

"I'm a little hard of hearing, you will have to speak up," he shouted. I responded by threatening to take off the other ear intentionally this time and that shut him up.

"Severus, there is no easy way for me to say this," Kingsley Shacklebolt began. I was growing bored with placating tones. He was going to disappoint me greatly if he continued to behave as a politician and not as the wise leader I always imagined he could be. "It is the collective decision of the Order that you allow the Aurors to handle this case. It was a very public attack, but one in which no one was physically harmed and we already have our best men on it. It would be unwise for you to attract any unnecessary attention on yourself by going after whomever you suspect to have done it right now."

Clearly, I had no intentions of drawing attention on myself, but I understood that was not really the message he was trying to get across. He'd made it perfectly clear when he questioned me under Veritaserum that I must toe the line or risk being thrown in Azkaban. I hazarded a glance in Hermione's direction as I scanned the faces in the room. She was sitting in between Potter and Weasley and she met my eyes, but I could not read her expression.

"You cannot expect me to do nothing," I spat out finally. "You haven't even asked me who I suspect. I assume putting your 'best men' on the job is more of an act to appease a worried public than to actually find the Death Eaters."

"Severus," Minerva interjected. "The Minister is going to do the best he can. We have to trust the Aurors to do their job. As much as you might not like it, the Order has made the decision to prevent you and any student member from assisting with this."

Harry scowled and sent a piercing glare at Minerva. I could already see the cogs turning in his head as if he was already formulating a plan to help me behind the Order's back. I would have to put a stop to any ideas he might come up with immediately. Minerva returned Harry's scowl with a sharp glare of her own and continued.

"Any student caught doing unauthorised work for the Auror's or the Order will be expelled, and you Severus, will risk a prison sentence. It will be too difficult to prove who you are fighting for should there be any accidents, and the Ministry will have to take action." To Minerva's credit, it was obvious she was not in full agreement with the last statement.

My temperature was rising as quickly as the tension in the room. Every single person in there knew how hard doing nothing was going to be for me, and half of them looked as if they hoped I would disobey. The only positive thing about the whole meeting was that I was welcomed back into the Order. If I was not, then the first and only order of business would be to tell me that anything I did was at my own risk. Demanding I do nothing was a directive that the leader could only give a member. While I was thankful for the inclusion, it did very little to temper the ire I was feeling towards most of the people in the room.

"If you were to actually catch those responsible," I drawled sarcastically in an attempt to make it known that I did not trust them to do so, "what will be their punishment?"

"Well, Azkaban prison of course. It is most likely that whoever did this is wanted for other crimes as well so rest assured that we are looking for them. Unless of course, it was an attack on you staged by another group altogether-,"

"You mean a group that believes me to be a Death Eater still and wishes to see me dead or in prison?" I interrupted.

"Yes, yes, of course," Kingsley continued. "But it is more likely to be Death Eaters, is it not? Depending on whom, they might receive the Dementor's Kiss."

Hermione gasped softly, but whether it was at the prospect of someone getting the Kiss, or the wicked smile I couldn't stop from spreading at the corners of my mouth I will never know. It satisfied me deeply to hear that the Kiss was a possibility. I was always in favour in that punishment of punishments. It was entirely to appropriate to suck out a man's soul and let them live for eternity pugnacious and rotting inside the walking corpse that is a Dementor. It took everything away from a person and it forced them to live with it in another body. No soul learns to adapt to being trapped inside a Dementor. It is the despair that keeps them alive. Even after their body is long dead and awash at sea their soul will fester inside the Dementor, until the Dementor itself is somehow killed.

It was only a few minutes later that everyone had left the office except for me and Minerva.

"You know I cannot agree to those terms, Minerva." I swallowed the shot of Firewhiskey she offered me and grimaced as it seared my throat. I was dehydrated and angry, but I relished the pain and accepted a refill with alacrity. "Surely, I have your support to act as I see fit. I refuse to believe that wasn't a ploy simply to keep the Golden Trio from running headlong into danger."

"I am afraid it is not." She poured me another glass and looked me resolutely in the eye after I downed it. "You must keep your nose clean and stay out of it. I mean it, Severus. I know how difficult this is for you, but you must do as I say. Give whatever information you have to the Aurors and then move on with rebuilding your life."

I set the shot glass down on her desk and Minerva reached out to pat my hand in a gesture she had only done once before, when I was out of body and could not feel it. It was a maternal gesture and it finally dawned on me that perhaps she was the one trying to protect me just as I would Hermione. A shadow of my thoughts passed over my eyes and she pulled her hand quickly away.

"I do not want to see you hurt again. There are people who need you whole, Severus. Now go, I am tired and you must be as well."

"I will, but I have to know one thing. If I leave the Order, will you sack me if I act on my own?"

"Would my answer have any bearing on your final decision?" she asked judiciously.

"I cannot answer that," I replied. I felt it was best not to answer to protect her.

"Then I will not answer your question." She rose and shut the door behind me without another word.

I was unsurprised to see Hermione waiting for me on the other side.

"Harry and I voted to help you out," she said in a way of greeting.

I walked past her and she hurried to keep up.

"Of course you did. You, and your friends, never tire of finding things to do that put your lives in danger. Please do as you are told and stay out of it. Worry about school and your apprenticeship. You do not want to risk that," I said sternly. I hated sounding like her father, but I needed her to do what was asked of her.

"You're not going to do what you're told," she stated under her breath. I had walked three steps ahead of her before I realised that she had stopped in front of the entrance to Gryffindor tower. I turned around and looked at her for a long moment in the deserted corridor. In less than two months she would be finished with her NEWTs and I wouldn't have to stop at the Gryffindor common room. She could walk freely with me to my own quarters. What I really wanted was to be able to floo into our new house and spend the nights together there. I would have to rebuild in time for that to be a reality.

I retraced my last few steps and took her up in my arms. "I do not want to discuss this anymore tonight. We both need rest for lessons tomorrow."

She nodded into my chest. "I know."

I kissed the top of her bushy head before pushing her away so I could look at her. "Everything is going to be all right, Hermione."

"I know that, too. Just one thing, Severus. Will you tell me?" she asked with a hint of desperation in her voice. "Whatever you choose to do, will you tell me so that I at least know where you are?"

"I do not want to discuss this anymore tonight, Hermione," I said with more than a little annoyance in my tone. She looked hurt that I would not reassure her and I thought back to what Minerva continually repeated to me. _There are people who care about you, Severus._ "I am not saying no. I am simply saying push it out of your head for the night. I will not do anything tonight, but sleep."

She nodded before standing up on her toes and gently kissing my lips.

"Ahem," we were both startled by the Fat Lady in the portrait who was watching us intently. "If you are done fraternising I would like the password so that _I _may go back to sleep."

Hermione blushed and gave the password and slipped through the portrait hole. I watched until she was gone and gave the Fat Lady a smirk before continuing on my way. I did do exactly what I told Hermione I was going to do, and I went to my room and fell straight to sleep. I dreamt about flying again.

**A/N: Sorry for the long delay in postings. I started reworking my ideas for the rest of the story and rewrote this chapter. For the purposes of this fic I am not going to apologise if my Severus is too soft and not mean enough. His attitude from canon was always part of his act as a spy. I think we saw enough evidence in his interactions with Dumbledore and Lily that he did indeed have a heart and the spy business was very difficult for him. He reserved his sarcasm primarily for his interactions with the Gryffindor trio and I don't see him continuing to be mean and sarcastic with Hermione if he is trying to build a relationship with her (for the purposes of this story). For the same reason he would be nicer to Harry. I have always said from the very beginning that my people are a little OOC simply because I am not JKR and I would never get them right no matter how hard I tried. Obviously, the fact that he is alive at all makes him OOC. I love a funny, sarcastic Severus with a biting wit myself, but that is not what I am doing here. I am not insulted if any reader feels they need to get their dose of Severus elsewhere because what I am writing doesn't fit your tastes. However, I am not providing a service for you, you are not paying me to do this for you, so if you do feel you need to stop reading my story, then stop reading my story. I do not need anyone to tell me that they will look elsewhere for their Severus fix in a review. Tell me in a PM, or don't tell me at all. Sorry if I offend anyone with that rant, but I just want to point out that my story is sappy, I am aware of it, and it is intentionally so. I would not tell an author that I am going to quit reading their story; I just quit reading it because not every story will please every reader. (Kind of being a devil's advocate for a few other authors (you know who you are) that have received some flames and negative reviews by readers that have nothing better to do than insult amateur writers,) That being said, ALL of my reviewers have been really wonderful and supportive, and have had positive things to say and I can't thank you all enough for that!**


	23. Not Nostrums but Normalcy

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 23

Not Nostrums but Normalcy

The next morning I awoke feeling more tired than when I fell asleep. It said in Ecclesiastes that the sleep of a labouring man is sweet, but whether that pertained to a labouring mind or a labouring body is uncertain. My overworked brain cells left me aching deep in my bones and cotton mouthed so badly that my upper lip stuck to my teeth. My throat felt raw as if I'd been screaming like a banshee all night long. I dreamt about flying, but I also dreamt about houses exploding and Death floating next to me as I fell of my broom telling me I didn't deserve to live. _'I take it back you coward! I take your life back,' _He'd shouted as he laughed maniacally at me. I shook my pounding head in frustration. It was my own imagination saying those things to me. If Death had appeared in my sleep, I'm sure he would have been much more creative with his insults.

I slowly rolled out of bed and after rubbing at my gritty eyes for a full minute I attempted to swallow. What little bit of saliva I could summon felt like sand going down my throat. Either I was finally feeling what I should have when I woke from my coma, or I had gotten the flu. I longed for my spiritual body where normal biological functions were a distant memory. Not even the protracted lifespan and unusually strong immune systems of wizards could protect a person from the common cold. At some point during the day I was going to have to find my way to the hospital wing to steal back some of the Pepper Up potion that I had already made for the impending cold and flu season. Unfortunately taking it would have to wait until the end of the day if I wanted to avoid walking about the castle with smoke coming out of my ears.

After a shower and a shave I felt no better. I was paler than usual, and when I looked in the mirror I could see the shining white skin where Nagini's fangs ripped into my neck with startling clarity. I thought that I was gifted with a fully recovery without scars. Seeing them, as faint as they were, made me think that maybe I wasn't sick and I really was dying. The rational side of my brain that wasn't completely riddled with fever yet put that in check. Sighing at my decidedly unattractive reflection I downed a headache potion and left for breakfast. As if I didn't have enough to worry about, I had a bout of the flu to deal with on top of it.

The last time I could recall feeling so ill was when I was sixteen. It was shortly after my mother had died and I was staying with Regulus at Grimmauld Place. Sirius was already living primarily with the Potters at that point so I was welcomed in that home like the older son Mrs. Black wished she'd had. She had Kreacher attend to me with the utmost care for the few days I waited for the potions to heal me. During those few days it was difficult to remember that I was in a house full of inhabitants that practiced the darkest of magic and exercised prejudice without abandon. It was just a place with people that cared enough about me to see to my comfort. I was in equal measures fury and despair over the loss of the home I was trying to build. How many more would I lose before this was all over?

I growled at a group of fourth years standing at the top of the dungeon stairs and they immediately scurried off for the Great Hall and their breakfasts. _That's right, run from the big bad Professor Snape you neurotic little twits._

"Severus, you really ought to ration your anger in small parcels throughout the day. You will tire yourself out." Minerva met me at the top of the stairs and fell in stride with me.

"Have no fear, Headmistress. I have energy in abundance for terrorising students." My weak and gravelly voice belied any threat I could possibly make.

"Hmph. You sound ghastly. You look awful too. What did you stay up all night doing, Severus?" she asked sternly. I avoided her gaze until she took me by the elbow and steered me through the door to the Great Hall. I jerked my arm away and gave her a glare that I only hoped could petrify a weaker person.

"I did nothing but sleep per your request and against my better judgment. There is nothing wrong with me that a simple potion will not cure, but it will have to wait. If you'll excuse me," I hissed at her. My throat was so raw I could barely speak and I was so irritated with her for telling me to do nothing the previous evening that I didn't even want to be near her. I sat at the end of the table and drank three cups of tea with honey until I could swallow without it feeling like a demon like was trying to claw his way out through my tonsils. Ironic that someone who has been under the effects of the Cruciatus Curse more times than he wishes to count can be debilitated by a sore throat. As soon as I thought I was going to get through breakfast without drawing any more attention to myself I was plagued with a coughing fit that ripped at my lungs. How did I become so ill so quickly? I saw Hermione looking at me in alarm from the middle of the Gryffindor table. She looked worse for the wear herself. I hoped she was not sick as well.

I longed to reach out to Hermione. I wanted her to come to me and rub my hair away from my sweaty forehead and hold my hand while I waited for the flu to subside. What I actually planned to do however, was avoid her like the plague until I had to see her in class on Tuesday because I did not want her to see me so weak. I could feel her eyes boring into my back as I exited the Great Hall. Of course I could not escape unnoticed. Poppy caught up with me quickly.

"Severus, you sound terrible. You must cancel your classes for the day and let me treat you."

"No."

"Then at least take a Pepper Up potion now, Severus."

I ignored her and continued towards the dungeon stairs. I know I was being unnecessarily rude to her, but it was easy and I was good at it. I continued on my way despite her protestations. I absolutely refused to wander around with steam coming out of my ears. I really needed to develop a cold and flu potion that did not do that. I would make a killing in the adult remedy market for something like that.

The only suggestion Poppy had that was legitimate was cancelling lessons for the day. Spending the day brooding and plotting in my quarters was a pleasurable alternative to teaching second years how to make a cure for boils. Half the students usually ended up with them instead. I really could not complain though. Despite not having proper Potions instruction the students were doing surprisingly well. They were in all my classes. Not necessarily better than usual, of course, just well enough despite not having a qualified teacher in two years. Slughorn was adept, but his lessons were supercilious. Never had I cancelled a lesson for anything other than some sort of Death Eater activity and I wasn't about to begin now. Instead I sat at my desk throughout the whole day glaring at students and sucking on throat lozenges, thinking about what I was going to do about the Order's decision that I do nothing.

I refused to accept inaction. My original thoughts were that the Aurors were doing nothing to catch anyone. I still had not told anyone about Yaxley and Dolohov. If I told the Aurors and they actually did look for them, there was a chance they would get to them first. If they weren't, it would be a slap in the face, and an obvious political ploy on the Minister's part to appear as if the Ministry was doing its job tracking down rogue Death Eaters. I wanted to get to them first. There were things I could do to punish them without even having to be near them, and I made my own stomach turn thinking about it. I could be cruel, but viciousness was never in my nature. Everything I did was to please someone, to belong to some group, and I always picked the wrong ones. If I had chosen Lily, I probably would have done none of it. If _she _had chosen _me, _I know I still would have done them all. Besides I wanted to see Yaxley and Dolohov punished if that was at all possible.

I still didn't know what Hermione thought about the whole situation. When I talked to her last she made it clear that she would be supportive and wanted to help no matter what I decided to do, but the risk of expulsion changed everything. I would not allow her to even think about what was going on if it would risk her future. Enough had been risked already. She had exams to get through and an apprenticeship to complete. She would become a fine teacher soon enough and I wanted her as more than my clandestine lover. I needed her to be my colleague and companion. We would never be able to connect the way we needed to until our relationship was out in the open. Secrecy eats away at the edges of a person until there is nothing recognisable left. Merlin knows I didn't know who I was when I woke up, or when I thought I was dead. I wasn't keen on the gossip, and I have never been a supporter of public displays of affection, but I worried that if it took too long, our relationship would be so wrapped in secrecy that we would not know how to maintain it in public. That, and I can be a terrible coward, and I wanted to face the world before I lost my nerve.

I sent Hermione an owl at midday letting her know that I was ill and not to visit so that she didn't catch anything too, if she hadn't already. She looked dreadfully tired the few moments I was able to glimpse her. I opted out of dining in the Great Hall for lunch and dinner because the cough was getting worse. Hermione returned the owl with a bottle of Pepper Up potion. _It's the least I can do for you since you won't let me visit, _she wrote. I was spared the inconvenience of having to apologise to Poppy for being rude, or having to make my own. The moment the last student left the dungeon classroom for the day I downed it gratefully.

While the steam poured out of my ears I settled into my favourite chair in front of the fire with a fresh fountain pen and a new roll of parchment. I still hadn't decided what I was going to do about the Order yet, but the time for action had come and gone. It had been almost forty-eight hours since my home was destroyed and that was forty-seven hours and fifty-nine minutes too long since anything had been done about it. I was truly terrified of going to Azkaban for making a mistake or frightening 'the public,' as Kingsley put it. Therefore, whatever I did do had to be insidious and foolproof. Not even the dumbest Ministry drones would be stupid enough not to recognise my work so I had to be extremely careful not to be seen.

I filled the parchment the names of every Voldemort supporter I could think of that I was not absolutely positive was dead. Next to their names I listed any possible location they might be in and who I believed they were most likely to contact. Since no one Death Eater knew the names of all the others it was likely there were several holes in my list. I did not exclude supporters without the mark such as Umbridge. She was currently being tried for war crimes and held in Azkaban prison, but I believed it would be worth a visit to see what else she knew. The likelihood that I would learn more than Aurors already had was slim, but I was positive that some of the things she told the Aurors might have a completely different meaning to me. Try as they might, not even the Order had managed to crack every code supporters had. This was all only if I did not simply hand my list over to the authorities and hope for the best. My job and my future with Hermione were at stake, and both were more important than my own life. I had already experienced how fleeting that was, and I feared for Hermione's suffering more than my own should anything happen to me.

I set aside my notes and unrolled a fresh roll of parchment. On that one I began to sketch out some preliminary plans for the rebuilding of my home. It would go exactly where the original was. I wanted to retain the charm of the original that had captured me in the first place, but since I was building from the ground up I would be able to put in a potions lab and build a study for Hermione. I paused in my drawing at that point. I assumed from the beginning that Hermione would live in that house with me, and she did as well. Most of the furniture in the house belonged to her parents. There were a few heirlooms in there that I am sure she was grieving the loss of. I lost a house that could be rebuilt, but there were books and photos, and an antique chair that belonged to her great grandmother that were gone forever. She couldn't bear to leave them in storage any longer than necessary, and I took a secret pride that she wanted to put her things in my home. The next logical step seemed to be marriage. We never spoke of it directly. I believed it to be too soon, but would she expect it with the way I was making room for her in my life? Too many questions and not nearly enough answers.

The next day I felt considerably better. I had no further revelations during the night as to what to do about the Order's directive, but I did know that I was going to confront Draco. I hadn't seen him at all since his last lesson and I mentally kicked myself for not talking to him sooner. The illness had erased all sense of rationality and I once again thought maybe the timing of the flu was intentional on the part of some other power. Years later I would dismiss that notion as coincidence, but at the time it made a lot of sense.

During seventh year potions I talked very little instead opting to watch the students as they prepared a blood replenishing potion. I was foremost interested in Draco. His demeanour was unchanged from any other day, neutral leaning towards unhappy. He did not avoid eye contact with me or act as guilty in any way. He probably really didn't know what was going to happen on Halloween night. I did not want to think about what it would do to me if Draco volunteered to help Yaxley and Dolohov go after me. I moved to his table and peered inside his cauldron. He added a leech and stirred three times without even looking up.

"See me after class." My voice was audible only to him and I he nodded an infinitesimal nod, but enough for me to understand he agreed.

I quickly moved away from and wandered over to Hermione's table. Her ingredients and equipment were laid out neatly in order of use and she continually casted cleansing charms on the surface below them. Harry's was not nearly as neat, but at least he could see exactly what he needed when he needed it. His potion was presentable, not nearly as close to perfect as Hermione's or Draco's, but useful. Weasley, on the other hand, was the most spatially disorganised student I had the displeasure to teach. His ingredients were in a pile on the table top, and he dept dropping his knife and stirring rod back inside his messy potions kit where he couldn't find them when he needed them. He reached across the table to take Hermione's knife just as she laid it down, but I shielded it just before his fingers could reach it.

"Use your own equipment Weasley," I said as I walked up to his cauldron and leaned close. It was congealing and beyond repair so cleared the contents away with a quick wave of my wand. "Zero for today Weasley for that slop."

Weasley's face reddened in anger and Potter opened his mouth, but Hermione beat him to it.

"Se-, seriously sir, was that necessary?" The room silenced immediately as every eye turned to Hermione, intent to see what I would do after being publicly challenged by her. I was angry only a little, but I couldn't let anyone else know that. I silently vanished her potion as well.

"Perhaps a zero and a detention after dinner will teach you to hold your tongue," I said with menace before glaring at all three of them and sweeping away to my desk. All three of them scowled back and Potter slammed his vial down unnecessarily hard on my desk at the end of the lesson. Some things will never change.

Draco sat dutifully waiting while the class filed out. When the door closed behind the last student he jumped up and rushed to my desk.

"I didn't know," he started as he ran a hand through his hair ruffling it. "I mean, you already know I knew something was going to happen, but they didn't tell me it was that, and I honestly thought they were going to do something to actually kill you. I admit I am relieved it was just a house."

It wasn't just a house; it was a home and everything it represented. I said nothing while I waited for him to compose himself. For a moment he was the same scared little boy he was when Voldemort returned. He would pour his soul out to me in quick bursts during those first years as well. It was not until his sixth year when he stopped.

"Do you have a plan?" he asked. I couldn't help the difference between his questioning and Hermione's. Hermione still assumed there was a chance I would do nothing, while even if Draco knew about the Order's mandate he would never make the same assumption. "Don't answer that, I don't want to know."

"Wise," I responded. "I want you to stay out of this. Do not speak to anyone of it, especially your mother. If Yaxley and Dolohov contact you again, you do not care what happens to me. Do you understand?"

Draco nodded and gathered up his things to leave. I was not only asking him to not stand in anyone's way, but I was also asking him to assist if necessary. I had nothing to fear. I would not hold it against him if he did know of any impending attack, because just as before I am sure he would find a way to warn me. If he didn't, then it would be self-presentation on his part and while I find that difficult to forgive, I could never fault a person for it. I was Slytherin enough still for that.

Our short meeting left me feeling surprisingly lonely. I wanted to ask him to stay and fill one of the holes that my exploding house left inside of me. There would have to be time enough for my godson later though.

At dinner Hermione was hunched over a textbook while she mindlessly sipped her soup. I cheered up at the thought of her detention. I of course was not going to punish her, I just wanted to be with her, but the rest of the class had gotten the point. Mean Professor Snape wasn't completely gone. Weasley and Potter were back to their usual routine of glaring at me and I enjoyed that too. Despite how much they thought they hated me, I knew it was eating them up that the Order was barring them from participating in the current anti-Death Eater movement no matter how paltry the movement actually was.

I left my office door open after dinner while I waited for Hermione. It wasn't long before she stormed in, clearly agitated.

"I'm sorry for talking back to you in class." Her tone definitely did not sound sorry, but I wasn't expecting an apology in the first place.

"This detention wasn't really meant to be a punishment." I unhooked her heavy bag from her shoulder and dropped it in the empty chair in front of my desk before closing the door.

"You still didn't have to waste my potion. It was really good and the hospital wing needs it."

"I just moved it Hermione, into an empty cauldron in the back of the room." I gestured for her to go check herself, but she declined and the corners of her mouth twitched slightly in amusement. I put my arms around her and bent down for a kiss. It was long, and sweet, and normal. I wanted more normal.

"How are your studies?" I asked her after we finally broke apart.

"Great. Terrible. I don't have enough time!" she moaned into her hands. "I want to be finished, but I am afraid I am going to fail everything."

"The world would indeed end if you got less than an 'O' on ever exam," I teased. "You will be fine as long as you focus and don't let any unnecessary distractions in."

"What? Like you? Or perhaps mad schemes to find and destroy rogue Death Eaters?"

"Maybe not so much the first, but definitely not the latter. Why? What are you planning? Or, should I say, what is Potter planning?" I demanded.

"Nothing firm yet. He isn't taking the threat of expulsion lightly as much as it angers him. Harry and Ron both think they should be able to do what they want."

I reached for her hand and laced our fingers together. More normal. "What about you?"

"I could kill those men for what they did to you. To us. But at the same time, I don't want to fight anymore, Severus. I just want to study Transfiguration and teach kids magic and have a life with the man I love. I couldn't live with myself if I walked away though. I have to fight." She squeezed my fingers tightly.

I pushed a lock of messy hair away from her face. "You do not under any circumstances have to fight. You are forbidden by the Headmistress. I doubt I need to remind you how I feel either."

"I know," Hermione sighed as if she'd heard the same story a million times and didn't need to hear it again. "Do you know what you are going to do? I wish you didn't have to fight either. We don't have to. We could let the Order and the Aurors take over and help them behind the scenes."

"I almost agree," I said carefully. In that moment I was entirely sure of at least one course of action that I was going to take. "I am going to retire from the Order."

"Really?" Hermione's eyes widened and then narrowed. "I did not expect that. Is it because you don't want to defy them?"

"I do not, however that is only part of the reason." I picked up Hermione's bag and led her into my quarters. I was going to erase whatever thoughts of studying she might have in mind. "I will consider giving the Aurors whatever information I have, but I cannot guarantee that I will leave it at that."

I pulled Hermione close and ran my hands down her back and rested them on her hips. Leaning into her with my full length I kissed her again. I was craving the contact, the closeness, and the physical reminders that I up until a few days ago I was that much closer to peace. I may have cursed the normal bodily functions that made me wake up with the flu, but I relished in the ones that made me feel like a desired man.

"We probably shouldn't do this here," she whispered into my mouth even as her hands travelled across my chest.

"Where else are we to?" My voice broke with grief and need. I turned away so she could not see the sadness even if she could hear it and I led her to my bed.

**Chapter title derived from William Harding. Thanks for all my reviews! You guys are always great in reviewing and I will take the time to respond. Sorry I am behind!**


	24. A friend is, as it were, a second self

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 24

A friend is, as it were, a second self.

It is said that it can take a whole lifetime for a person to realise one's ambitions, or to come to terms with the realisation they are not going to achieve them. It would take me two, perhaps three at the rate I was going. Being constantly vigilant and looking over my shoulder was not in any way a means of being content. When I was actively spying, I could feel the anger and resentment of every single thing wrong in the world coursing through my veins like a sickness. It was what enabled me to perform my duties with minimal guilt and maximum skill. Years later I am still astonished at how quickly the anger fled me, leaving me to feel nothing but indignation and hurt that someone wished harm to me. I must have appeared to anyone who cared to look a complete pigeon, but that was the nature of my growth.

In the weeks following the destruction of my house I remained inside the castle. I didn't go to Hogsmeade or Diagon Alley, or even flying out over the lake and forest. Part of the reason was Hermione. She was completely immersed in her studies, but she also seemed immersed in some sort of inner conflict that was leaving her exhausted and teary eyed. She was not avoiding me, but neither was she making any effort to spend any time with me. I was concerned for her well-being more than any slight I might have felt for myself. I had seen her get worked up over impending exams before, but this was different and I hoped that once they were over she would return to normal. They were only four weeks away. I stayed in the castle so I could watch her.

I also stayed so I could watch Potter and Weasley. Minerva received my resignation from the Order two days after I made the decision. I also agreed to give my list of notes to the Aurors for which Kingsley was immensely grateful. My earlier negative attitude towards him was reduced at the sincerity of his thanks. The notion that no news is good news was not sitting well with the general public. Nobody wanted to hear of any crimes committed, but neither did they want to hear that no person associated with Voldemort had been found. Many Ministry officials were being tried and sentenced, but the really violent criminals, like Yaxley and Dolohov were still at large. I feared myself that it was only matter of time before some innocent family was found slaughtered in their home. My heart may have softened in many areas, but it had hardened against the cause. I was feeling selfish. I wanted no more part of it, but there was no way out for me and I was going to have to go after them myself.

Fortunately my list did yield some results about a week after I handed it over. There were several names on the list that I knew would stir some controversy within the Ministry. So, it was to everyone's surprise but my own when the notorious and erstwhile Head of Magical Games and Sports was tracked down running an illegal exotic animal fighting ring just outside of Cologne, Germany. According to the Daily Prophet he went down in blaze of yellow and black as the Aurors swept in to his hotel room with several of German's Magische Polizei. The British Aurors received a twofer that day when lo and behold they discovered Ludo Bagman accompanied by Rufus Fudge, the nephew of Britain's own ex-Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge. Bagman was charged with providing illegal Portkeys to Voldemort supporters from the mainland. He claimed he was desperate to pay off the Goblins he owed who were threatening worse punishments than Voldemort ever did. In a way he was securing his future no matter what the outcome of the war was. If Voldemort won, he would have been favoured for assisting support, if not then he would remain in Germany and nobody would be any the wiser, but he was wrong. I paid attention, and I alone knew that he was assisting Voldemort. The Dark Lord was selective of who he told his secrets to and I never forgot the few he shared with me. Rufus, after extensive questioning under Veritaserum was only party to the gambling ring. He did not even know about the illegal Portkeys and was in Germany avoiding the war when he met with Bagman. Even so, the students talked of little else for days.

I was not complacent for those two weeks by any means. I may not have left the castle, but I was plotting my own attack on Yaxley and Dolohov. I had taken to heart Minerva and Hermione's concerns about not fighting so my compromise was to focus on those two, and let the system take care of the rest. Did it hurt me in the dark recesses of my soul that thirsted for revenge against every person who wronged me or my loved ones? Oh yes, considerably, but it turns out some sacrifices really aren't sacrifices at all.

The only real obstacle I had in going after Yaxley and Dolohov was Minerva. She was watching me as closely as I was Hermione and her friends, and I knew she was waiting for me to make my move. She knew better than to assume that the more days the less likely I was to take action. I decided to meet with her to at least be honest about my intentions. That was how ended up in her office with a low ball glass filled almost to the brim with the smoothest scotch neat I'd ever tasted. She had a truly magical palate for good liquors, no pun intended.

"I do not blame you for leaving the Order, Severus," she said as she swirled her scotch on the rocks. The light from the fire reflected in her glass turning the brown liquid a bright red. "Not that I assume you think I do, I wanted to say it nonetheless."

I nodded and took a long swallow. Dumbledore was perched in his usual spot looking on at us. He made no effort to feign sleep like the majority of the other portraits. I really wanted to spend more time with him. He was my constant companion during the last year and I owed him more than what I was giving, even if he was just a portrait. Phineas Nigellus was looking on as well, I owed him a little more time too, but it was no longer my office and not my place or privilege to converse with the late heads of the school any longer.

"What do you need, Severus?"

I slid my gaze from the Portraits back to the current Headmistress. "I wished to inform you that I cannot sit idly by any longer."

Minerva pressed her lips together into a thin line and leant back in her chair. "I am surprised you waited as long as you did. I find it difficult to believe my paltry threat on your job held any sway in the delay."

"It might have a little, and we both know it is not a paltry threat." I too leant back in my chair and stared at the flickering flames dancing in her glass. Her expression shifted from stern to mildly compassionate.

"You're right. I would have to follow through if you were to draw negative attention towards yourself."

"I will see to it that I don't," I replied casually finishing my drink in a long swallow.

A shadow of a smile danced at the corners of the older woman's lips. "What do you intend to do, Severus?"

I didn't answer; instead I voiced the one concern that had been plaguing me since the Order's mandate. "What difference does it make, Minerva? Why should my already fragile reputation be at stake if I were to take down two notoriously violent Death Eaters? So what if I splattered their entrails across the country as long as they were out of the picture? How many crimes must they commit before such an act would be permissible?"

I was seething by the end of my tirade. Dumbledore jumped in his pictorial seat as I slammed my crystal low ball on the table and began pacing behind my abandoned chair.

"Is that what you want? To kill them for the entire world to see? I really don't think it is worth the risk, Severus. The Wizarding community still sees you as a threat and it will be out of my power to champion for you a moment longer if you do something at all violent. The only thing that keeps disgruntled parents from bursting through the castle doors is my and the Ministry's assurance that you are on your best behaviour." Minerva closed her eyes and pinched the top of her nose before continuing. "I understand how difficult it is for you, but you must not fight anymore. You are in the unfortunate position of having to prove to the world that spying and fighting are behind you. Even for the right cause."

I paused midstride and faced Minerva. I opened my mouth to speak, but she held up a silencing palm.

"Please, just live your life. Go out, enjoy your freedom, and if a situation presents itself that requires self-defence, well then so be it." She pulled my glass in front of her and refilled before plunking it down on the other side of the desk once more. "Now sit down, Severus. I want to talk about Hermione."

"What about her?" I asked as I sat and brought the newly full glass to my lips. "Is she not doing well in her apprenticeship studies?"

"Of course she is. That is not what I am concerned about. She appears tired and stressed, and well, depressed actually. You two are not fighting are you?" Minerva asked accusingly.

"No," I snapped. Of course of all people I should be the one to know what her problem was, but I was not at the point where I hounded her. If she said to leave her alone, I left her alone. That was a habit I learned to rectify. I was too preoccupied with myself to bother her when I knew she was so busy, but it was a rookie mistake. I didn't appreciate having Minerva call me out on it though. "She has been busy. I cannot force her to speak with me."

"You could at least try." There was no point in arguing, she knew me well enough to know I hadn't put forth any effort.

"Severus," Minerva continued. "You won't have much of a relationship with her when the exams are over if you neglect it now. I told her the same things so don't think I am laying the blame on you."

"You've spoken with her? Do you know what is bothering her?"

"So you do admit that there is something wrong?" she asked satisfied.

I scowled at her. "With her, not with our relationship. Unless there is something you are not telling me."

Minerva sighed and used her wand to scrub out her empty whiskey glass. "No, there is nothing. I am growing tired of telling you how to handle your relationship. I'm going to bed. Good luck to you, Severus."

I left Minerva's office feeling guilty for not taking the initiative in fixing whatever Hermione's problem was. I found it personally grating when people insisted I speak of my feelings, and I wasn't about to force Hermione to do something I would not. Naturally I was inexperienced enough with women in general to know if I should have pressured her. Hermione didn't seem angry with me the few times we did speak privately, but apparently that didn't mean anything. Without Minerva babysitting our relationship I wonder if it would have gotten anywhere. What I really wanted was to stop making stupid mistakes and manage it on my own. In hindsight I wished I'd told the old woman to mind her own damn business.

Either way, I sent Hermione a note requesting her presence directly after her next class with me. She appeared tired when she approached my desk after the lesson, but she didn't seem that upset. I had a few ideas of what might be wrong with her though and I was hoping to touch on them at least a little to see if I could help.

"How are you?" she said.

The heavy bag usually on her left shoulder was conspicuously absent. In its place was a smaller lightweight looking satchel. "I am fine. What happened to your usual burdensome bag?" I asked testing the weight of the weight of the new one.

"I ripped a strap, and then it dawned on me that I am a witch and quite skilled at making small bags hold a lot of heavy things. I don't know why I would do something like that for our year on the run, and then completely forget the skill when I am actually school."

I dropped the bag on the floor by my desk and sure enough, it made a loud thump as if at least twenty or so hard bound books were inside. I lifted it again and looked inside, the space was cavernous, and books and notes were floating freely. "This is impressive."

"But not normal," she quipped. "Carrying around this many books is not normal, yet I do it."

"Saves you a trip to your rooms when you want a book," I quipped in return. I offered her a smile. "I like that you are so studious, but I worry that perhaps you take it a little too far. Are all of these books really necessary all the time?"

"Exams, Severus, exams," she said. I clearly exasperated her. "I have to take the NEWTs in three and a half weeks. There is not enough time."

"You are more than ready, and you should know it. You are a mere mortal, Hermione." I reached out and took her hand in mine. "Everything you need to know is already in your head. Have some confidence."

She looked at me sceptically and squeezed my hand in return. "There is so much more to learn. I refuse to believe that you would either accept or expect me to get less than O in every subject."

There was no response. My standards were very high and I did not expect less from her. The trouble was that I knew she could do it even if she didn't. I was the same way though. I constantly feared every single exam I took. Getting perfect scores was the one thing I could do. If I wasn't the popular, good looking student, I was at least the smartest. Of course, I might have been less of a social outcast if I had control of my hygiene, or perhaps didn't rub my brains in everyone else's face. I opted for changing the subject.

"Is there anything else bothering you? You don't seem yourself lately." I realise it wasn't very articulate, but it was at least honest.

Immediately her eyes started welling up. My first instinct was to run through the last few weeks to see what I had done to make her upset and try to figure out a way to fix it.

"Don't look so guilty," she sniffed. "It's not you."

I actually loved that she could see what I was thinking. Nobody could do that, and I wanted her to. It worked out perfectly. "Then what is it?"

"I just miss my parents. When my pictures and things got destroyed in the fire it really broke my heart. I don't really have that many other reminders and I can't just go back to Australia and get more, because I don't exist to them. Harry and Ron are planning something to catch Yaxley and Dolohov, and they both suspect Draco of Merlin knows what. I don't have time to listen to them with my course work, and revising, and apprenticeship studies, and they are right back into their pattern of expecting me to do their work for them. Well Ron is, Harry is trying to keep him on track, but you know Ron. That's not even the worst of it, and I'm tired and stressed, and I miss my family, and I miss you, and you probably didn't want to hear all of that did you?" She buried her face in her hands and shook her head in embarrassment.

"Don't. Tell me what is worse. I do want to know." I pried her hands from her face and wiped a tear away. I pushed gently into her mind, not to look, but to encourage.

"I still fear that you are going to disappear to get revenge and I am not going to know you're gone. You could die if you go. I want revenge Severus, I hate it, but I do. But I don't want you to be the one to get it. It is awful feeling this way. I actually imagine the cruel and barbaric things that we could both do to them, and I don't like it at all."

The crux of her problems was directly parallel to mine. We both wanted revenge and we hated ourselves for it.

"Hermione, I won't leave without telling you. In fact, I won't have to. They will find me."

Hermione laughed a shrill, mocking laugh. "That is supposed to reassure me?"

"What would reassure you? It doesn't seem natural that you would put yourself in such a state for me. I assured Minerva that I would not do anything that could be traced back to me, so I won't. If the Aurors do not catch them first, Yaxley and Dolohov, and how ever many others they are working with, will not rest until I am found. I am safe in the castle, but I cannot remain here forever. They will find me, and I will defend myself. I hope they find me soon, Hermione." Heat was rising in my cheeks and I was pacing before I finished. Hermione's cheeks were also flushed, but there was something else in her eyes that I hadn't seen in weeks. It was lust and desire, and the feral man inside me growled with pleasure.

There was nothing to be done and the moment was interrupted with a slight knock on the door.

"Expecting someone?" The tenor of my voice was harsher than I had intended. I was just disappointed for being interrupted. It wasn't my fault she made my pants tight.

"No. Yes." Hermione backed away from the desk just as Potter opened the classroom door. Ginny Weasley followed close behind. "I am going to study with Harry and Ginny before they have to go to Quidditch practice."

Harry walked in eyeing Hermione and I with a dubious expression. I doubt there was anything I could say to him that would convince him I had only Hermione's best interests at heart. Perhaps to him, the best thing for Hermione would not be me at all, but the selfish part of my personality had already come to terms with that, Harry needed to as well. If Harry only knew that I thought Hermione was so beautiful that just looking at her filled a void in me, he still would not be satisfied.

"Hermione," I mumbled under my breath so only she could hear. Potter had the worst timing. He didn't know how lucky he was to have Ginny by his side whenever he wished it. "May I help you, Potter?"

He gave a contemptuous shrug that would have dislocated the shoulders of a lesser man. "We are waiting for Hermione, so we can study."

"Apparently you think very little of her if you believe she cannot find her own way to the popular study areas." Pathetic, but I enjoyed his reaction. He spluttered for a moment before clamping his mouth shut and narrowing his eyes at me.

"I told you we should have just waited for her upstairs," Ginny hissed in his ear.

"Very wise, Miss Weasley. Miss Granger will be along in a moment." I looked at them meaningfully until they both backed out the door.

When they were both gone Hermione apologised. "I didn't expect them to come for me. Harry has been really keen on where I am all the time lately, and to be honest, he is getting a little bossy."

"Does Ginny Weasley know about us?" I asked.

"I haven't told her, and I am quite sure neither has Harry. Ron doesn't know either. When we go public it is going to shock everyone." She smiled the first real smile I had seen on her in a very long time. I took in her face for a moment so I could memorise it.

"Oh! I almost forgot to tell you! I got a letter today from the Ministry. Remember those reporters that pressed charges against the St. Mungo's security? It's finally gone to trial and they want Ron, Harry, and I to step forward as witnesses."

"Who is asking you in, the hospital or the newspaper?" I asked. Having to testify really was not a big issue by itself, but it would put them in a difficult position. It would do neither business any good to have the Golden Trio say anything disparaging.

"St. Mungo's," she replied sounding a touch distressed. "I don't know what I am going to say, and I really don't have time for this. If I can't make time for you, I don't want to have to make time for anyone else."

"That's very touching. We can talk about this later. You should probably go before Potter goes ballistic. Meet me in my office while they are at Quidditch practice." I gently laid a hand on her back as I guided her towards the door. Right before I opened it I impulsively leant in close and whispered. "I love you." Then I pushed her out the door, smirked at Harry, and slammed the door in his face.

That was the first time I told her I loved her spontaneously. After the immature satisfaction from goading Harry passed I actually felt a little embarrassed. I was mildly grateful that I pushed her out the door and didn't have to see her reaction. Privately I was becoming more and more comfortable with being a 'nice guy,' but it was a little terrifying that the rest of the world was going to see it soon too.

I pulled a stack of third year essays in front me and began to read through them while I waited for Hermione to return. I allowed my mind to wander to the hearing she was to attend. I believed that she was right to be a little concerned over how she responded, but the solution was relatively simple. The more pressing matters that she'd brought up during our short conversation were Harry and Ron Weasley, and whatever they may be planning. There was nothing to do about Hermione's test anxiety except give her a calming draught and wait for them to be over. She wasn't the only one losing it over the exams. It happened every year after all, but the other two presented a problem.

I immediately decided to alert Minerva. I did not have enough evidence, obviously, to have them expelled, and nor did I want them to be, but I was always a bit of a snitch when I thought it was in the best interest of the person I was ratting out. I had run to the school's head countless times over the years on behalf of the Gryffindor trio's own best interest, and while they will never thank me for it, my interference saved their skins on more than one occasion. They could be careless, and they needed to be watched.

I was worried that Weasley and Potter, and even Hermione to a lesser extent, had the notion that whatever they chose to do was going to be layered in a patina of institutional credibility based off of their war hero status alone. Minerva McGonagall had never been in any business to make friends and she would gladly have the trio snub her for expelling them if that was what it took to honour her word and position. Whether she voiced it or not, Minerva was as worried as I about them going after evasive war criminals.

After marking through the essays I went to my bathroom to freshen up for dinner. I was hoping Hermione would stop by beforehand, but apparently Quidditch practice was scheduled for after. I missed her. Even as I saw her every day, I missed her. I longed for the time when we could spend days in each other's company learning everything there was to learn. The problem with becoming attached to someone was how lost you feel when they are gone. It had been only a few hours and I could have wandered around my quarters aimlessly just thinking about her. But I wouldn't, I would never give in to such love fool musings as much as I wanted to.

The geranium that Hermione left me when I was convalescent was sitting on the corner of a small writing table I had near my bed. I fingered the leaves tenderly and admired the consistency of the spell that kept it not only alive, but growing without the support of a single natural beam of light. Magic was such a wondrous thing and it never ceased to amaze even though I was immersed in it all the time. I plucked one of the leaves and rubbed in between thumb and forefinger. Hermione had incredible foresight in giving me that plant. Geraniums had incredible restorative powers. Symbolic.

At dinner, Hermione spared me an apologetic glance. Harry, Ron, and Ginny were having an animated conversation about the forthcoming Quidditch practice so my assumption that they hadn't left proved correct. I know I shouldn't have been second guessing Hermione, or acting so possessive, but I am possessive of her and I always will be.

Draco, however, was sitting off to himself at the Slytherin table. He picked at his food for about ten minutes before finally pushing his plate away and leaving the dining room. I wanted to talk to him again, but this time about his father. I imagined that was an undesired conversation, but it needed having and I didn't want to wait anymore. I cared about Draco like my own son despite however he might feel. Lucius was an old friend despite however _he_ might feel and I wanted him to know that while he was in prison, his son was being taken care of. Narcissa too, for the time had come to face her as well. It was just deserts for the both of them, but I could say the same for myself and I wasn't sitting in Azkaban. There was probably going to be an irrevocable rift in whatever was left of our friendship after they learned about Hermione any if it wasn't completely over already, but it didn't hurt to pay one last visit. If they viewed me as a traitor, then so be it.

"I'm going to visit Lucius Malfoy this Saturday," I told Hermione when she finally arrived about half an hour after dinner. She was leaning back in a chair with a cushioning charm eyes half closed when I made my announcement. I was busily brewing an elixir that would serve as a superior healing potion. One I know had been administered to me only months before. Her eyes snapped open, but I continued to grind at the purple geranium petals with my pestle.

Hermione stood up and looked over my ingredients for a few moments. "Why are you making this, Severus?"

"Because it is very difficult and highly useful. One needs to practice one's art to remain in any way successful."

"Are you planning on getting gravely injured again when you go see Lucius Malfoy?"

"I never plan to get injured. It is an unavoidable risk in some situations, but to answer your question, no. It is only a short visit to Azkaban and I should not get hurt." I scraped the sides of the mortar with my silver knife to remove the paste inside. I dumped the lot into the boiling cauldron and set the flame to simmer so the plant could steep overnight.

I sat down in the chair she'd just vacated and allowed myself a small sigh of contentment. I was enjoying her company while I brewed even if the conversation was less than pleasant. I pulled her onto my lap and just held her quietly for a few minutes.

"Do you think he is going to want to see you?" she asked finally.

I shrugged. "I really don't know. Does it bother you that I care?"

She tilted her chin up and brushed her lips across my cheek. "No. I want to hate them, but I pity them instead. Do they deserve my pity?"

"It's your pity. Feel free to bestow it on whomever you wish as long as it isn't me. I could have helped them. I tried to help, am still trying to help Draco. It wouldn't be truthful if I said I didn't wonder what would have happened if Draco accepted the refuge Dumbledore offered him. I could have stopped being a spy then, and maybe Lucius and Narcissa would have joined their son. I know they would have." I made it a point never to discuss the Malfoy's with Hermione because I knew she was bitter, but it was cathartic to have the conversation.

"We wrote Narcissa, Harry and I, to thank her for lying to Voldemort. It was a brave thing she did. I don't like that she could do something like that, but still hate me because I am a Muggleborn. She didn't respond. I don't even know how to act around Draco. I don't need him to like me, but it would be nice to be civil. For your sake at least," she said.

I watched the flames dance underneath the cauldron. I wanted Draco to like her, and I knew would if he gave her half a chance. In fact, if he took the time at all, I imagine he could fall in love with her just as easily as I did. Not that I wanted him to. "We have obstacles at every turn, do we not?"

Hermione smiled at me and snuggled deeper into my chest. "I laugh, but it is terrible how right you are. What if Lucius hates you now?"

"If he does it is because of what I represent to him."

"And that is?"

"Freedom, Hermione. Lucius loved one thing as much as he feared Voldemort, and that was his family. He cannot have them right now and because of it he is a broken shell of a man. He can't even attempt to hate me, or you, as much as he hates himself right now." This time I brushed my lips across her cheek.

"You say this like you have firsthand knowledge."

I did not want to go through the details of the time when I was out of body and visiting Azkaban. The memory, as distant as it seemed, was still quite clear and soon to be relived in the flesh. Hermione did not press me for more details and we passed a few more minutes in companionable silence. The only sound was the soft simmering of the potion and the dry crackle of the flames beneath it.

"Do you have any idea what your friends are up to?"

"No. Thankfully Quidditch is occupying all their time this week. I will let you know if anything knew comes up," she replied.

"As far as the trial goes I think it may be in your best interest to simply say exactly what you saw. Use only neutral language. Try to corroborate your story with Harry and Ron." I could have easily forgotten to talk about Potter or the trial altogether, but she was there for that, not to talk about Lucius.

"What if they ask me how I felt? I am sorry that it happened, but I don't want anything to happen to the people who did it. I have to admit that at the time, I was still battle ready and I didn't even think about it. I should have said something then."

"Don't worry about it. Talk to Minerva about it if you need to, but you will be fine. If you're still worried about it we can talk about it some more before you go. Maybe I could even go. You will need a faculty escort if you are to be leaving the school after all." I regretted offering the moment I did, but I wanted to be there for her in her times of need no matter how small or large.

"That's sweet, but Mr Weasley is supposed to take us."

"Ah, I see. And it wasn't sweet, it was practical," I teased. I might find a way to be around the Ministry that day anyway. I did have a blueprint for a new house I was going to need a new deed for, after all. We lapsed back into quiet.

"Are you going to stay for the Quidditch match?" Hermione asked reluctantly breaking the languid silence.

"No. I will leave in the morning."

"I am so busy with everything, Severus; I probably won't be able to sneak away again until that night."

"Good. By then I will have something I want to show you." My drawings for the new house were almost complete.

"What is it?"

"A surprise."

"Just promise me one thing," Hermione said her voice getting sleepy. "Be careful when you go to Azkaban."

"I'll try," I reassured her. All I could do was try.

**A/N: Thanks for the wonderful reviews! Okay, last of the 'boring' chapters for awhile. Things are going to really start picking up soon. Title by Cicero**


	25. Weigh the Enemy More Mighty Than He Seem

Disclaimer: I don't own any of it.

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 25

Weigh the Enemy More Mighty Than He Seems

The gawkers had plenty to do the following Tuesday, and there were plenty of gawkers to stare at the motley group we made walking through the Ministry. At the staff meeting the previous day Minerva made a big show of assigning me to act as an Hogwarts representative and travel to the Ministry with Hermione, Potter, Weasley, and Arthur and Molly Weasley for the hearing. I grumbled and cursed about why not send Hagrid along instead because he seemed hurt not to have been chosen, but Minerva held fast. The reality was that I wanted to go because I had other business at the Ministry besides supporting Hermione, and in the end, Hagrid decided to come along to watch me. I was not offended, but what did offend me was all the people that stared at us. Gawkers made my ass hurt.

I could hardly blame the rubberneckers though. After all, it wasn't very often when you were faced with a half-giant, three of the reddest haired people on the planet, two other war heroes, and the living embodiment of everything that can be good and evil all at the same time. I was that final dichotomy. I could see the question in everyone's eyes. Is he good, or is he evil? Whenever I cut my eyes in someone's direction to meet theirs they would twitch and falter in their steps, and then glance back apologetically as if their clumsy mistake of assuming I was going to attack was offensive. It should have been, but I was slightly amused and more than a little annoyed instead.

The Ministry had opened the hearings to the public which only increased the spectacle we made, but fortunately they had forbidden cameras. At the security station there was a ridiculously large pile of cameras sitting haphazardly on the floor. For some reason I thought of Colin Creevey and his own photographic machine. I hoped his little brother, Denis, would do something more important with his camera than get a job as paparazzi. Something in my soul said that he would become something more special than that and that his pictures would move the world rather than entertain it.

I walked towards the back of the group and spoke very little throughout the course of the morning. I was giving off the impression that I was irked to have an entire day's worth of classes cancelled for this wasted errand. Only Hermione knew that I wasn't, and only one portion of the visit to the Ministry would be less than pleasant. I sat through Hermione's well rehearsed and delivered testimony before I excused myself from the trial. Hermione spoke quickly and eloquently only telling exactly as she saw putting heavy emphasis on the fact that she was honestly not paying too much attention as her goal was to get to where she was going. I don't think she could have offended anyone much. I caught her eye before she left the witness stand and gave her a very small, but reassuring smile.

The hallways of the Ministry were quiet now that the trial du jour was underway. I ran into no one as I made my way to the Auror's offices and was pleased to see Wulfric Banes sitting in his desk chair behind a mountain of paperwork. Banes was an ancient senior Auror who hadn't seen battle in years, but was responsible for the records of them, and also the man who authorised visits in and out of Azkaban. He saw me through his cracked door, but I knocked anyway.

"Come in," he called as he shuffled the papers in his hands and looked at me with curiosity.

I closed the door behind me and settled myself in the extra chair without invitation.

"Do you have more information for us?" Banes asked almost eagerly. "We have done well with what you have offered us, although the men we most desire still evade capture."

"No, I do not come with more information, but to make a request." I leaned forward slightly and lowered my voice as if to include him in the effort. We both knew he had nothing to do with any captures beyond copying my notes and dispensing them to the active duty Aurors. I enjoyed how his beady little eyes brightened at my dramatic effect. "I wish to visit with Lucius Malfoy."

The bright little eyes sharpened as his brow furrowed. "He is only allowed visits from immediate family members once a month." Meaning only Draco, because his wife was currently imprisoned for another seven months in her home.

"Is that your only concern?" I pressed searching his eyes. He was doing a poor job of hiding his suspicion.

"No, no. Of course not," he stammered as he wiped his brow.

I leaned back in the chair, crossed my legs, and laced my fingers together over my raised knee. I was the portrait of collectedness and Banes continued to sweat as I fixed him with my hardened gaze. After a moment I flashed him a wide toothy smile with straight new teeth that disconcerted him even further.

"Then I would like to make a special request for an exception. They have been granted in the past. I do not wish my visit to publicised so there should be no objections," I said.

"The request would have to be approved by the Minister of Magic." Banes twitched as he reached for the appropriate forms just as I knew he would. "And he will want to know the nature of your visit."

He poised the pen over the paper as if waiting for me to give him the explanation so he could write it down. Instead I slipped the parchment calmly from underneath his palm and stood up. I was making the man perspire enough as it was. It was obvious he did not want to be the man responsible allowing the visit that freed Lucius Malfoy from prison. One did not have to be a skilled Legilimens to know that was exactly what he was thinking, but it did help.

"I will place the request myself. I wouldn't dream of doing something without going through the proper channels, and you are a busy man." Banes looked relieved as I exited the office and I saw him pull out a handkerchief and take a swipe at his brow before I closed his door behind me.

Unfortunately, the Minister was currently presiding over the trial taking place in the courtrooms below me. Getting the visit approved would have to wait. I wished I had Hermione with me as I went to my next stop which was one of the many offices where magical deeds were kept.

Once I arrived at the appropriate place a plump witch with mousy brown hair smiled and welcomed me without taking her eyes off the article she was reading in _Witch Weekly._

"How may I help you, er, sir," she stammered when she finally did look up and recognised me. I did not recognise her. She was clearly much older than I and obviously not one of my past students.

I ignored her surprise and withdrew the copies of my shrunken new blueprints from my pocket and expanded them. "I would like to register changes to the deed of my house and to apply for a building permit."

"Oh, of course." She took my information and went to a file cabinet. After tapping three times with her wand a drawer popped open and she retrieved my home's records. "This won't take long. It is such a shame about the fire," she quipped after reading on my file what happened to the original house. I didn't respond, but I did not glare at her as I was wont to do either. Thirty minutes later I was finished and on my way back to the trial. I would be notified by owl when my permit was approved which she said would take one to two weeks. That meant during Christmas I could begin building. Thanks to the wonder of magic, a little bad weather would not deter from building in the winter time. I wanted my new house built as soon as possible.

By the time I got back to the courtroom the hearing was over. Several members of the Wizengamot were milling about outside speaking with the three young Gryffindors. Arthur had excused himself back to work and Molly was fussing over Percy, her eldest son. I saw Kingsley end an interview with someone from the _Prophet_ and I took the opportunity to approach him before anyone else could.

"A word," I muttered in his ear. I silently cast the Muffliato spell as I gently led him a few more feet away from the milling crowd. "It will only take a moment."

"Of course, Severus. What is it you need?" At least Kingsley had stopped looking at me as if I was going to snap any second and start summoning Death Eaters out of nowhere. I was not the Dark Lord, after all.

"I wish to visit with Lucius Malfoy." I retrieved the already completed request form from my pocket and handed it to the Minister.

He skimmed the form letting his eyes linger on the 'nature of visit' section. I had written _to be of assistance to an old friend._ I wanted to write 'none of your business,' but figured honesty would provoke and equally incredulous response. I was right as Kingsley's brow furrowed much as Banes's had.

"While it is not extraordinary to grant an exception like this, I cannot help but be conscious of how suspicious it might appear to the public," Kingsley stated in a voice that was a cross between a pandering politician and concerned friend.

I could not keep my frustration at bay any longer. "I am not planning to release him. Haven't I done enough to satisfy the Ministry that my intentions are honest? I only wish to do as I stated and offer my assistance to an old friend. Furthermore, I expressly stated I do not want knowledge of my visit leaked to the public."

I could feel the bright spots of colour high in my cheeks. I wasn't even aware of how tightly I was clenching my fists until I saw Hermione out of the corner of my eye. The look on her face and those of the people surrounding her were of worry and mild shock. I relaxed immediately and turned my back on the bystanders. "Please, Minister." I hated to beg.

"Yes, yes. Forgive me. You have done more than enough to show your loyalties and I should be more forthright in my gratitude. Now turn around and smile." He grasped my shoulder and whipped me around for the sea of people who could see us, but not hear us. I silently released the spell and moved forward with the Minister.

Hagrid eyed us both suspiciously before clapping me hard on the shoulder. "We're off to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch before we go back ter the castle."

"I will send you an owl," Kingsley whispered for my ears only as Hagrid shoved me and the three Gryffindors through the crowd and out into the lobby of the Ministry. We took the next available floos to the Leaky Cauldron and I didn't relax again until I was seated at the table with a pint of ale in front of me. Hagrid ordered a pint for Ron and Harry as well, but Hermione opted for a milder butter beer. It was odd sitting with my students at a pub, particularly those three students, but I was not put out. The new me, or me that was always pushed aside but always was, wanted to enjoy the day. I even kept my mouth shut when Ron ordered another beer before we even got our food. He was an adult after all, sometimes.

Conversation focussed mainly on the trial and I was soon apprised of everything I missed and the verdict. The Hospital paid restitution to the hurt reporters, but the security personnel were allowed back to work. New procedures were being drawn up on how to deal with unruly reporters as we spoke. Hermione seemed relieved, but was soon fretting over her exams which were only days away. A couple of weeks actually, but her concern was endearing so I said nothing. I wanted more than anything to reach an arm out and pull her closer to me, but as only Harry knew how I really felt about her, I kept still.

"You are more than prepared," I offered.

Ron looked at me suspiciously with an open mouth as if I was going to retract my statement at any moment. When it was clear I did not make an error with my words he slowly closed his mouth.

"Thanks, Professor," Hermione answered blushing.

The conversation lulled as we all became suddenly interested in the food on our plates. After a few minutes silence Harry announced that the Dursley's had been returned to their home on Privet Drive. Hermione and Ron both exchanged a glance. I knew Harry's life at the Dursley's was less than ideal, but I really had no idea what it was like exactly. I had never wanted to know because I needed to imagine that he was a spoiled brat in order to maintain my fantasy that he was like his father and not like his mother.

"Are you going to see them again?" Hermione asked.

Harry shrugged. "I dunno."

"You're better off without them, mate." Ron took a heavy swig of his beer and clapped his friend on the shoulder. "They never did anything nice for you."

Harry looked at his plate and pushed the food around. There was something in his eyes that said Ron was wrong. Either the tales were not true, and Harry was treated well, or he had developed a case of Stockholm syndrome. I could tell by Hermione and Hagrid's face that they had thoughts along similar lines.

Ron continued unabashed. "I mean, your aunt and uncle were nasty, and Dudley was a mad bully. It wasn't on, mate."

"I guess," Harry mumbled.

"Don't you think on it, Harry," Hagrid interjected as he slid the last of Ron's ale away from him. "Everything will work out."

As big and lumbering as the giant can be, he was wise as well. Harry was just a kid without a family, and now he was having conflicting emotions over the only one he actually knew. It was expected, but I wished I knew more details. I wanted to reach out to him. I was, still at that point, a lost boy myself, and it hurt to see me in him. I know Hagrid could see himself, and he looked like he wanted to press Harry further, but was too tactful to try. Hermione looked worried and Ron was oblivious as usual.

"Hagrid's right, Harry. And whatever you choose, we will be right there with you." She reached and gripped his hand. Harry smiled up at her and squeezed her fingers back, but released them quickly after he caught me staring. I wasn't trying to appear threatening, but the expression is natural on my face. I was just thinking that it was nice they had each other. Frankly, I was beginning to get nauseated at the emotional display. I still preferred to leave mine for Hermione, when I am alone, or when Minerva sucks them out of me through the sheer force of her will.

"I don't know what I would have done if I didn't go to Hogwarts. I probably would have run away, or gotten in trouble I wouldn't be able to get out of," Harry blurted suddenly. "I hated the Dursleys as much as they hated me. I wish I had known sooner that they were protecting me even if they didn't know it. I hate that no one told me anything."

I hated it too. Everyone was too stunned to speak. In any other situation I would have left the table by now, but something compelled me and as the metaphorical word vomit spilled out, I had to force the literal thing to remain inside my stomach. "Hogwarts has a way of becoming a home for those without another option. It finds us. We should have helped you more." I should have helped him more, but my admission was enough without directly implying myself. I felt nauseous.

The rest of the meal passed awkwardly and quickly and soon we were back at Hogwarts. I didn't speak a word to anyone and I hoped that I wouldn't have to face any of them for at least another day. I was happily working on my potion when there was a knock on my lab door. I don't like being disturbed at any time when I am brewing, and seeing Harry in the doorway did very little to improve my disposition.

"I'm brewing, Potter," I greeted without looking up.

I could hear him shuffling his feet before he spoke. "Yeah, uh, sorry. I'll just go then."

Something in his tone made me look up. "Sit."

I waited for him to sit down in a chair I pointed to before I turned back to the potion. It was fifteen more minutes before I was at a sufficient stopping point. I tried to ignore Harry's green eyes as he stared transfixed at what I was doing. When I was through I washed my hands and took a seat across the table from him.

"Well?" I asked. He was in some distress, that much was evident, but I wasn't in the mood for more theatrics and soul bearing.

"I, erm, I just wanted to say that," he paused and cleared his throat. "Hermione told me you could hear everything everybody said to you when you were in your coma."

I nodded sharply. I wondered if he was there to reiterate his message.

"I hope you're not angry with her for telling me," he continued in a rush. "Do you remember what I told you?"

Like it was yesterday. "Yes."

"Oh, good. Well, not good. I wanted to say that maybe I was wrong, and maybe it would be sort of okay if you didn't leave me alone." He began to pick at a small notch in the table. I could see a bright flush in his downturned face.

He looked so young and so old at the same time. I would have been a fool and a bastard not to recognise how hard it was for him to reach out me like he just did. I would be an even bigger fool and bastard to throw his words back in his face like an infinitesimal part of me wanted to do. I thought of Denis Creevey and his older brother's camera again and came to a realisation. One that I had always known, at least since I woke in spirit form, but didn't really make sense until that moment. I was an acerbic, grumpy, and sceptical man, and no one needs that in their life. Wit, perhaps, but not meanness, and I had them both in spades, but they were not necessarily mutually exclusive. People like Denis, Colin, Harry, even Ron do not really need to change. They need to grow and mature, but not change. It is people like me that need to change. I swallowed around the sarcastic comment stuck in my throat and choked out an "I see." Clearly, it was just as difficult for Harry to admit he was wrong as it is for me.

"I may have been wrong as well," I said. "I hope you know from my memories that I was always on your side, and I thought that Dumbledore withheld vital information from you."

Harry nodded and glanced at me with damp eyes. I had to swallow around the lump in my own throat again. _I will not say something rude just to restore balance to the conversation,_ I chanted to myself. The moment had finally arrived where Harry and I could start learning to be friends, or at least acquaintances, and I had no idea what to do with it. I wished Hermione were there to mediate. We sat in an uncomfortable silence for quite some time. I was about to kick him out of the room when he spoke again.

"I'm really sorry about your house. Hermione's really upset too. She said you are going to rebuild, and I wanted to offer to help." He stood up and dusted off his clothes even though there was nothing on them. "If you want it."

Hermione would kill me if I refused. "Certainly."

Harry left and I returned my potion. I tried not to think about our brief encounter, but my over analytical mind could not help parsing it out until I was absolutely sure there was no hint of falsity in his words. I needed to convince myself that he came to me solely because he wanted to and not because he felt sorry for me or because Hermione made him. I never did thoroughly convince myself that Hermione had nothing to do with it, but he did not pity me anymore, and for that I was infinitely grateful. Now if only Draco would warm up to me again I would feel much better. I still missed Draco, the child who loved his Uncle Severus. Thanks to Voldemort, I didn't even really know Draco, the man.

After dinner that night I wandered up the dungeon stairs and did rounds for several hours. I still enjoyed doing rounds, and when a tired Bill Weasley met me in the faculty room to relieve me I offered to do his rounds as well. He looked grateful and made some half intelligible comment about projectile vomiting babies and thousands of illegible essays to read. I waved him on not wanting to get involved in whatever domestic/academic drama he was currently involved in.

Towards the end of Bill's shift I wandered up to the Astronomy tower without even thinking about it. It was a place that I avoided like the plague during my illustrious year as Headmaster, but lately it seemed my feet wanted to go there of own accord. I minded less and less as I came to terms with what happened there. I was done playing 'what if,' but I wasn't finished reminding myself of how much had been lost. There were no students wandering in the halls at that late hour, but the castle felt as alive as always. The cold stones seemed to quiver with sentience under my fingertips. Hogwarts was as much a part of me as anything else and the castle recognised that. I imagined that if Harry took the time to really feel the castle he would have that same understanding as well. I know Hagrid felt it.

This particular night was different though. The castle was welcoming like always, but it was somehow closed off to me. Normally I had a sense of not only home, but a sense of completeness about home. There was a time when the castle made me feel like I didn't have to go anywhere else, but now I could feel it kind of pushing me away a little bit. It sounds stupid, I know, but I really felt like the castle was telling me to move on in the same way I imagined a loving parent would encourage a child to go on their own in the world, but at the same time be sad for the loss. We would still see each other, but it wouldn't be the same ever again. It was really time for me to build my new home.

The sky was clear and the air was crisp on the tower. I took a few deep cleansing breaths and then scanned the night sky. The stars were bright and shining in stark clarity against the black blanket of night. The crescent moon shown like a beacon, illuminating the tops of the trees below it and I could see birds and thestrals flying about. I was watching the thestrals quite contentedly until a lone figure on a broom sent them flying straight back in the trees. Whoever it was flew high over the trees towards the castles and then abruptly turned. He went higher and did it again and then higher still. It was clear that whoever was on that broom was attempting to get past the wards. The thestrals had been playing at the portion of the forest nearest where the wards had been redrawn after the battle. The wards were infinitely high and only faculty could fly through them. It was obvious that the person out there was testing the limits.

My stomach clenched painfully as I leapt over the edge of the tower and flew sans broom towards the figure. So far they hadn't noticed me so I took care to stay close to the roof of the castle and out of sight. I knew that eventually I wouldn't be able to hide, not that I was afraid of a confrontation, but as long as the person was distracted they might not see me, but he did. He came swooping lower as I approached ready to defend the castle, and then I saw who it was. It wasn't the castle I would have to defend, only myself.

"What are you doing here, Yaxley?" I shouted through the space of the wards without crossing them. I had to keep moving back and forth because like a shark, without movement I would plummet.

"Ah, Severus, it has been some time," he sneered through his yellowing teeth. "I gather you received my message."

I ignored him as I mentally battled with myself over whether I should cross the wards and kill him with my bare hands right there in the sky or send a curse through one way barrier.

"Perhaps I sent it too soon," he drawled. "I see you still have a taste for some of the Dark Lord's lessons."

I faltered slightly in my flight. He pinpointed the only reason I hadn't flown without a broom in as long as I did. Simply because I had learned it from Voldemort.

"You should leave, Yaxley," I said in a patronising tone doing my best to train my wand on him, but not moving forward.

Yaxley pulled out his own wand and snarled angrily, "Why don't you come over here and make me?"

"Clever, Yaxley. I have no wish to fight you." Like hell I did just not there, not so near the school. It would be too easy. Any spell I cast would go through the wards, but none of his would reach me. All I could see was red. I wanted to kill him for burning down my house, for being a Death Eater, and for taunting me at the castle. I hated Minerva and Hermione momentarily for making me promise I wouldn't do anything stupid. It would not be self-defence because he couldn't cross the wards and that made my blood boil. His timing was damn inconvenient.

"So, it is true then. Everything they say about you. You are a tired, soft, old man just like Dumbledore was," he taunted. "You should die for your treachery Snape, and you will. You think you are not afraid of me, I can see it in your eyes, but you should be. I will destroy every attempt you make to live outside of this castle. One by one, I will find the people you love and destroy them too."

I almost sent him from his broom then, but my promises to Minerva rang in my ears. I would not lose my job because of him even if he took away everything else, but I prayed I would see him again away from the protection of the school's grounds. I laughed. The sound was hollow and cold even to my own ears. He was not a completely stupid man. He was smart enough to know that to hurt me was to hurt others. I had always been foolishly Gryffindor in that respect and publication of my allegiance and love for Lily had opened that vulnerability up for the world to take advantage of. I could taunt him back, but words were not powerful enough. I had suffered in my life far more than he had and I could make him feel that pain. I had no desire to deny the existence of loved ones, and because of that I could never underestimate him for fear of someone else's life.

"Whatever you do to me, Yaxley, you will feel as well," I said barely above a whisper as I floated slowly in front of him.

Yaxley sneered at me and pushed the broom against the wards. "Come over here and fight me like a man, you coward."

I really hate being called a coward, but I held my ground. "We will meet again soon, I assure you. Now leave these grounds before I alert the rest of the faculty."

I did not wait for a response. I turned and flew to edge of the forest nearest Hagrid's hut and landed to walk the rest of the way. I did not make it more than ten steps before the sonorous barks of Hagrid's dog Fang echoed across the half-giant's considerable garden before dying out in the thick of the forest's trees. Hagrid emerged from his hut with his crossbow perched high on his shoulder.

"Who's there? Show yourself!" he said loudly into the night. The lantern he'd lit glowed dimly behind his bulk.

I stepped into the small bit of light and raised my hands. "It is I, Severus Snape."

"Oh, well all right," he said lowering his bow and stepping further from the doorway so that the light from the lantern could pool across his stoop illuminating me further.

"What're you doing out here so late?" he asked and then raised a hand. "Never mind, don't answer that I probably don't want to know."

"Actually Hagrid, you probably should know." I walked up to his doorway and waited for him to invite me inside. After he did and offered me the requisite drink I told him everything about my conversation with Yaxley. I left out the names of any potential people I might care about, but I spared no details for the rest of it. Hagrid's face shifted from anger to sadness and back to anger again as I told my story. I could see in his eyes that he was touched I had chosen him as a confidante.

"Don't worry, Snape. I will watch out for anything else suspicious," Hagrid said gruffly. He sat quietly for a few moments sipping the tea he'd made as I talked. It was obvious by his expression that he wished to ask me something and I waited. Finally he dragged a large hand down his wiry beard before speaking. "I have ter ask, what did you mean that you would make him feel it too? How're you gonna do that? I figured you just wanted them dead."

I was not expecting that question. There was no hint of anger or disgust in Hagrid's voice when he mentioned my desire to see my enemy dead. There was only understanding and of course, mild confusion.

"There are worse things than death." I swirled the last bit of my tea and stared at the dregs. I wondered what Sybil Trelawney would have to say about my tea leaves, not that I would ever consider consulting her. The woman grated on every single one of my nerves. Hagrid shifted in his seat and I could feel more questions coming off of him even though he did not open his mouth. I did not look up, but I felt compelled to say more. "To watch people live, and not be able to join them, having only your own torturous memories and painful thoughts for company, that is a fate far more terrible than death."

Hagrid shuddered, and when I finally looked up at him his eyes were red-rimmed and leaking. I stood then and excused myself.

"You're all right, Professor Snape," I heard Hagrid say as I walked up the path towards the castle. I didn't feel all right anymore. Something ominous had settled in my gut and I felt flat. The only consolation I had from it all was that I had confided in someone. It is true that having support lessens one's burden. I was doing everything everyone wanted me to. I was not fighting, I sought assistance with Yaxley because he'd attempted to breach the school wards, and I was reaching out to others for friendship, and most importantly, I allowed my heart to open to love once more. It felt freeing and wonderful, but any potential joy was quickly erased by an overwhelming fear that Death was going to end my life and snatch it all away.

The castle was still and silent as I made my way down the dungeon stairs. It was nearly two in the morning so I was more than surprised to find Hermione waiting for me underneath Harry's invisibility cloak in the hallway before my quarters. She was an answer to my prayers in that moment, and for the remaining morning hours I sought the sort of solace that only soft lips, feminine curves, and warm brown eyes could provide.

**Hey everyone! I know that I didn't respond to everyone's reviews from the last chapter (technical difficulties), but I will for this one! You have no idea how great it is to get your reviews!**


	26. We'll Keep Our Christmas Merry Still

Disclaimer: I am not JKR

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 26

We'll Keep Our Christmas Merry Still Part I

In the days leading up to Hermione's NEWTs I silently withdrew from everything. I convinced Hermione I was giving her the space she needed to study, which she appreciated. I told Minerva that I was busy planning lesson plans for the next term so my winter break would be free to build my home, and in the classroom I reverted to my old habit of interacting with the class only when absolutely necessary. My comments towards the students dripping with the familiar sarcasm that saturated almost every word I uttered were like a soothing balm that moistened my lips and tongue. The students began to comment that the Greasy Git of the Dungeons was finally returning to normal. Some seemed relieved, others distressed, but the bulk of them were suspicious that my attitude was a representation of some planned ill deed.

The truth was that I was planning to harm someone, but the students needn't know to whom or why of course. The night that I ran into Yaxley replayed itself in my nightmares and every waking moment when I was careless enough to let my mind wander from whatever task was at hand. That night I had found comfort in Hermione and friends, but in the morning when I woke, cold and alone in my overlarge bed every vein and nerve in my body was screaming for revenge. I was disgusted with myself for not crossing the wards and dropping him like a stone from his broom. His blood could have been a gift for the hungry acromantulas, and his bones left for the thestral foals to chew in the morning. But no, I had done what I thought everyone else would have wanted me to do. _Don't fight anymore, Severus. _I could hear those words in my head in everybody's voices, Hermione's, Minerva's, Hagrid's, and even Draco's. But they were all wrong, all of them. If Death didn't want me to fight anymore than he was wrong too. I may have promised Minerva that I would stay defensive and only harm to protect myself, but I no longer had any desire to do it. Dumbledore told me when I was disembodied that Death wanted me to live my life in a way that would satisfy me, and that meant going on the offensive. I was going to find Yaxley. As a compromise I was going get my revenge in a way that would satisfy me and the Aurors.

I debated on what would be the easiest way to find my prey. I could use scrying, but it required me to use the vision of small animals that either scurried or flew and their eyesight was cloudy and left me nauseas at best. Protective wards made scrying useless as well, which was proven quite clearly as I searched and searched for Potter while he was on the run during the previous year. Asking Draco was a possibility, especially considering he was being harassed by Yaxley, but I did not want to involve him anymore than he already was. I could never ask him to spy for me, the consequences were too great, and he was clever enough that if I asked he would guess what I planned to do. I certainly did not want his help. After careful consideration, however, it was Draco I chose to involve in my plans anyway. Using Draco would be like sending an invitation to Yaxley, and a simple plan was too desirable to pass up. I wanted to do my deed and then enjoy the rest of my Christmas break building my house in peace.

The last day of term and also NEWTs was a loud and raucous day in the castle. I took advantage of the pandemonium to pull Draco away from the Slytherin common room and bring him to my private quarters for tea just as I used to do before he no longer trusted me. He was surly mood since he had been forbidden by the Wizengamot to take his NEWTs early as a term of his probation. I know he longed to be finished with school, but I agreed that Hogwarts was the best place for him.

Draco said nothing, but regarded me with a quirked eyebrow and the ghost of a curl to his lips. He was feigning disinterest in our visit and he settled himself regally in his chair. The charade was wasted on me however, and after a moment he relaxed and took the proffered cup of tea I held out to him. I waited until we had both finished our second shortbread biscuit with raspberry jam on top before speaking. Subtlety may be a gift many Slytherins have, but I was more in the mood of getting straight to the point.

"I desire your help, Draco."

Unfazed Draco regarded me coolly. "With?"

"It is a personal matter that you are already unwillingly already involved with. I need to find someone. Soon."

"How soon?" he asked.

"As soon as possible." I casually flicked away a biscuit crumb that had landed on my neatly pressed pants. Draco wanted to ask directly who I was looking for, but I knew he would not. I could see in his eyes without Legilimency that he already suspected. He was fishing around in his brain for the right question that would give proof to his suspicions without demanding a name outright. I spared him the search.

"We could both be relieved a bothersome gnat if you lead me to this man."

Draco smirked. "I thought this was going to be a challenge."

I sat up in my chair and lowered my voice to a hiss. "You think it will not be? Do you think he would go anywhere you asked? Without suspicion? I need this to be quick, Draco, do you understand?"

I could see Draco's hackles rising. "I did as you asked, _Professor._ They suspect nothing of me. I have done nothing to neither help nor hinder them, and they have at least left me alone for the time being. I do not know what their plans are and I am not sure I should assist you if I do not know what your plans are either. You are changing again; perhaps you want to rejoin your old friends? I can understand why you would want to keep that quiet."

I forced my face into a mask of neutrality. Draco had shown me that _he _was truly changing. The contempt in his voice when he suggested that I was not against Yaxley, but secretly with him showed me that Draco was losing his confidence in the old ways more quickly than I originally believed. The fact that Yaxley and his thugs destroyed my home meant nothing. It was common Slytherin self-preservation to join those whom you could not beat. Lucius Malfoy was a shining example of that particular philosophy.

"I need him to come, Draco," I stated calmly not answering his question yet. I took a long sip of my tea before continuing. "I cannot tell you anymore until I have secured your word that you will lead Yaxley to me. You have to trust me again."

Draco lowered his grey eyes and stared at the hem of his sleeve for a moment. He sighed deeply and then looked back up into my eyes. "Do I have to make the Vow?"

"No!" I spat forcefully. "No, I would never place you in such a situation. You _must _trust that I intend you no harm. Your word is all I need."

Draco looked momentarily overcome that I would trust him enough to ask for something as paltry and unreliable as his word, but for my plans it would suffice.

As soon as he gave me his word, I explained the rest of my plan in detail.

Hermione was less easy to convince. The thought that I was going to get revenge was a bitter pill for her to swallow, but the fact that I was going to involve the Aurors eased the humanitarian in her somewhat. "You could get killed, Severus, even with the Aurors there," she said tears welling up in her eyes.

"Then that is my fate," I replied. I held her cradled in my arms. She was giddy with finishing her NEWTs and after I had listened to her prattle on about the apostrophes she might have forgotten on the fourteenth questions of her Ancient Runes exam I reiterated my earlier conversation with Draco to her.

"I thought we agreed your fate was to live," she said indignantly. "After all, isn't that why you are alive now? I understand your desire to get revenge, I really do, but why do you have to be there for what you have planned? If you are not going to outright kill him, you don't need to be there if there is a battle. And if you plan to be there, I am going to be there too. And I think it is kind of twisted that you want to see it in the first place."

"It is justice, Hermione. I have to witness it. If I cannot perform the act myself, I at least want to see it done. No, I do not want you there, or your friends. Absolutely not, you have been forbidden to participate or risk expulsion. I already told the Head Auror I would be there and he has agreed. I am lucky, Hermione. They could have had me locked up inside Azkaban instead to ensure that I don't turn on them and join Yaxley, but they are not. You see, Hermione? I will get my revenge in the way I see fit and also restore a little more good to my name so that you won't be attached to a reject of society for the rest of your life," I pulled her closer to me and placed a kiss on her stubborn chin. "Doesn't that make you a little happier?"

"I want the Death Eaters caught too, but I hate that you have to be involved. As much as I don't want to fight, I can't sit by while you do." Hermione pulled away from me and looked into the fire. The flames danced in her eyes reflecting the anger I could see there. "I am afraid that it will make you angry again. You are already changing back into how you used to be, so mean and spiteful all the time."

The words stung, but I could not deny the truth in them. I was either nice or not, and I needed to learn how to find that middle ground. The balance I somehow had with Hermione, but nowhere else.

"If everything goes according to plan, Hermione, it will be over soon and we can work on my attitude then," I said to her profile.

"What if this doesn't work? What if another Death Eater replaces each one you capture and dispose of? This could go on forever," she said still not looking at me.

"It won't. They will all disappear just like last time. No one will cross me again. If they do I will deal with it then." I forced her to look at me. "These are the dregs of the Death Eaters, Hermione, we almost have them all. Yaxley is the only one we need to be finished with this for a long time, possibly for the rest of our lives."

"I am going to be there," she stated. "I am no longer a student, I can't be expelled anymore and Professor McGonagall wouldn't sack me over this any more than she would you. If Draco knows how to find Yaxley, why doesn't he just take you all to him? Why does he have to come to you?"

"Draco will not divulge how he communicates with Yaxley, but I believe I know," I dragged a hand across my left arm where the ghost of my old Mark still remained. "I want him to come to me."

Hermione sighed in exasperation as she leaned into the crook of my arm. "I am not even going to try to understand you."

"Very wise. I knew you would learn eventually," I quipped. I could feel her smile as she kissed my neck, where Nagini bit me. "And for the record, you are still a student until you get your NEWT results. I will be meeting with the Aurors before then."

She stood up quickly and turned on me. "When exactly, are you planning on this? I thought you meant in a week, or weeks even. How quickly do you expect Draco to communicate with Yaxley?"

"He already did. It is happening tomorrow."

Hermione was torn between pleading with me not to do it and storming out of the room without another word. "Were you going to tell me that little bit? What if something happened to you and I had no idea where to find you?"

"I'm not doing this alone, Hermione. Somebody would notify you, and nothing should happen. I am planning an ambush that is so simple it is practically cowardly. Nobody wants me to fight, so I am setting it up to where I shouldn't have to. I refuse to discuss this with you anymore." I clenched my jaw tightly. As much as I wanted her to support me, I didn't need her approval. I just wanted her to be there when it was over. "I know what you are thinking. If it is going to be so easy, why can't you be there? Am I correct?"

She nodded.

"Very well, then. I will take you with me, but you may not like where are going." Hermione's eyes softened at my offered olive branch.

"Where are we going? I cannot tell you until we leave. I do not want Potter and Weasley involved."

"I won't tell them," she said with mild petulance.

I did not budge. "That is my condition. It is for their protection."

It was a lie that I feared she would never forgive me for, but that was for _her_ protection.

The next day was crisp and cold with a new layer of snow making the grounds sparkle in the sun. Just after eleven almost every student was tucked away on the Hogwarts Express and travelling to warm comforts of home during the holidays. That included Harry and Ron. Hermione promised to go to Grimmauld Place in two days time and nobody argued with her. I worried that perhaps she was slowly being distanced from her friends, but I had been too absorbed in my own problems to determine if that was her doing or theirs. She seemed unaffected so I chose not to dwell on it for the time being. I had bigger fish to fry.

Hermione met me in Minerva's office directly at noon dressed in snug jeans and green sweater. My mood was less than cheerful, but even I could not resist giving her a full body glance that lingered ever so slightly over the curves of her rear and breasts. Wizard robes did nobody justice. Draped over her arm was a heavy down jacket in the same emerald green as her sweater. She was prepared for the outdoors. A couple of minutes later, Draco arrived in the office as well. He gave Hermione a surreptitious once over before scowling and turning towards me.

"What is she doing here?" he demanded. It was inevitable that our relationship was going to be public eventually, but I wished that Draco wasn't going to find out this way. Hermione huffed at first and then gasped in realization at where we must be going, and Draco turned towards her again. This time he looked at her longer and his expression and tone changed. "I mean, what does she have to do with this?"

"I will explain later. We must be leaving." Minerva was not there to see us off, but the portraits of Dumbledore and Phineas Nigellus both wished us all luck. I held out a bowl of floo powder to Draco. "We will follow."

As soon as Draco was gone Hermione slapped my arm hard and exclaimed, "Why didn't you tell me were going to Malfoy Manor?" It was almost cute the way she did it, but I was not pleased.

"Do not forget who I am, Hermione," I snapped. She recoiled like a scared child.

It took only a moment for her to recover. That was good; I did not want her afraid of me, but I did not want to be reminded of how much she meant me to either. What I was about to do was going to be painful enough.

"I never said that was where this will take place." I stepped into the fireplace with a handful of floo powder ready. I took more space than was necessary so she would not have room to join me in the fireplace unless I moved.

"Forgive me for this Hermione, I do love you," I said before releasing the powder and disappearing in a storm of green flames. As soon as I stumbled out the other side I disabled the fireplace from the floo network. It happened quickly, but not quickly enough for me to miss the stricken look in her usually warm chocolate eyes. Whatever happened that night I did not want her to see it.

Draco was dusting the ash off his clothes when I finished with the fireplace. I joined him without saying anything.

"Where is Granger?"

"She is not coming," I replied wiping my face with my handkerchief.

"What was she doing there then?" he demanded once more.

I put my handkerchief in my pocket and straightened my robes. I glared at him, his eyes level with mine for the first time I could remember. When did he get so tall? I could see Hermione as a woman, but Draco who was nearly the same age, still seemed like a little boy to me. "I said I would explain later."

"She looks better. Good even. Too bad she's a Mudblood," Draco mused as we left the travelling room. "Mother will be waiting in the parlour."

I gritted my teeth against his comments and let him lead me through the house. Much of the damage from Voldemort's time in the manor had been repaired, but the place still held signs of dark activity. The wood in the tables and wall trimmings were scorched were spells burnt scars into the smooth surfaces. The cloying scent of sulphur and decay, and dead dark spells hung in the air. The chandelier in the main entryway was gone; having shattered the day Hermione was captured and tortured. There was a thick layer of dust and disrepair everywhere. Curtains were shaggy and torn, candelabras and wall sconces held half melted candles with wax dripping over the edges of the holders onto the floor as if the candles had been carelessly replaced one after the other. Without magic, the Malfoy Manor was falling apart.

Worse than the house, though, was Narcissa. She sat in her usual high-backed chair in the parlour, but her eyes were blank, her clothes dirty, and her hair was limp. She had none of the airs she usually presented. No makeup, no painted nails, and all the youthful vivacity she maintained before the war was lost. I prayed it was not forever. Narcissa was dear to me and I hoped there was something better for her in the future.

"Severus," she croaked out in a voice that was raw with either disuse or screaming. Based on her expression I would not have been surprised by either one. "After all this time you are here. Why have you come?"

Draco walked over to his mother and kissed her before taking his place next to her. He stood facing me with his hand gently but protectively set on her shoulder. She reached up absent-mindedly to give his hand a pat. Draco's eyes were hardened with grief and pain. I knew it must have been torture to see his mother, the great and powerful Malfoy matriarch reduced to a weak and withered bag of bones. I had to choke back the large lump that had formed in my own throat as I reached out and clasped one of her thin hands in mine.

"I am here to help you, Narcissa. I am going to help you get rid of one of your threats and get vindication for us all. I know this is sudden, but it cannot be done any other way. Yesterday Draco invited Yaxley to meet with him under the guise that he is interested in his plans. Draco allowed Yaxley to pick the time and date, and predictably he picked today, just enough time to gather supporters, and is going to be in the direct centre of Kielder Forest at four this afternoon. Draco and I will be there accompanied by a team of Aurors who will be capturing and imprisoning as many as Yaxley dares to bring along." I paused to stand up and pace the room. Narcissa listened wide-eyed. A pale hand covered her mouth. "Of course I will do all I can to protect Draco. I know some of these people were once called friend, Narcissa, but they are friends no longer and I cannot express how much your family's aid in this mission will help you in the future."

"You are absolutely right, Severus," Narcissa said with a voice that was almost clear. "We have been punished enough and it is time we fought back."

I turned towards her stunned. I was not expecting such ready agreement. I was expecting pleading to be left out of it, even tears, but not such verve. "Yes," I said. "It is time to show you know where your priorities belong."

"What about Lucius? Shouldn't he have a say in this?" she asked.

"Mother," Draco interrupted. "I am the man of the house while he is away and this is my choice, my decision. Father will understand if he knows what is good for him. He wants out of prison just as much as you want him out."

Draco held his mother's gaze for several long moments. I shifted uncomfortably and moved to a chair, but the brush of my cloak startled Narcissa out of her reverie. She flitted a hand to her hair and then looked down at her soiled dress and frowned as if waking from a long and terrible dream. "I must go change. I should not be seen this way."

I stood aside as Draco helped her up and took her from the room. Once they were gone I was able to sit and contemplate the events of the day thus far. I was going to help the Malfoys and perhaps restore some of their honour in society over time. I was going to secure even more redemption for myself by helping the Aurors take down Yaxley and Dolohov, and whoever else might show up, if anyone, but I might have done it at the cost of Hermione. I prayed that she would forgive me for leaving her behind. I would be livid if she had done such a thing to me no matter the reason, but it was too soon to reveal our relationship to the Aurors and the Malfoys. I most certainly did not want her to get hurt, and I could not bear the thought of her seeing me relish in the misfortune of another, even someone as disgusting as an active Death Eater, but that is exactly what I planned to do.

About an hour later Narcissa returned from her rooms clean and refreshed looking. She was still too thin and much too pale, but she had put in some effort to look more like her old self. At the bottom of the stairs she whispered something in Draco's ear and he nodded disappearing through a door I knew led to the kitchen.

"You will have to excuse my son, Severus. Without the use of magic or elves in this house it takes longer to prepare meals. Draco is becoming quite a talented chef I must admit. I eat so poorly when he is not around." Narcissa stopped speaking and pulled her lips into a grimace. "You must excuse me as well; I should not speak so openly."

"No, do not feel as if you have to hide anything from me. I will help Draco in the kitchen." I left Narcissa to nurse her wounds in privacy just to find Draco in the kitchen doing the same. He was slamming things around and muttering under his breath. He made a few comments as he slammed cupboard doors about how his mother must be starving without him around to cook her and he uttered a particularly colourful string of curse words when a large spider leapt out of the bread box and took him by surprise. Draco saw me then and his grey eyes turned stony. His embarrassments at the situation clear in the flush of his cheeks. Neither of us said a word, but I helped him dig through the ice box and cupboards until we found enough salvageable ingredients to make some soup and sandwiches.

By the time the meal was finished it was time for Draco and I to head off and meet with the Aurors. We met them on the outside of the forest at Hadrian Wall. The air whipped around us as Dawlish accompanied by four other Aurors met with us and discussed battle tactics. Shortly after, four more Aurors arrived with a Dementor magically bound to them all; a silver terrier ran in circles around the oddly mixed group. For the first time in my life I was pleased to see one, but Draco staggered a few feet back and gasped for breath. The presence of the small Patronus was enough to protect my own fragile sanity for the time being.

"As soon as we see your signal we'll come. If we don't see your signal by a quarter past four we will come anyway using this locator charm," Dawlish handed Draco a charm that he put in his pocket. "Just say 'find me' and the charm will activate."

Dawlish scanned the skies and then looked at Severus and Draco. "It is about time you go on. I hope for all our sakes that this works out."

Draco and I both mounted the brooms we had brought along and flew to the centre of the forest. We landed at the southwest bank of the Kielder Water. We still had almost twenty minutes before anyone would be arriving, but the northern England sun was already setting. Neither Draco nor I was surprised that we had yet to catch sight of a single Muggle. The Aurors had placed several charms that would deter them around the borders and the air was bitingly cold. Just before four a rapidly thickening snow began to fall.

We stood in silence for several minutes until finally spoke. "Do you even need that thing?" he asked gesturing to my broom leaning against a spruce tree to my left. The frozen water of the reservoir before us was disappearing under a layer of snow, but the moonless sky was still bright enough to see the shapes of individual trees around us.

"No, I don't, but it is useful when I have to concentrate on other things." I scanned the horizon wondering if Yaxley would Apparate or fly in. I glanced at my watch one more time. There was less than two minutes to go and I expected him to be right on time. I tapped myself on the head and shivered as the chilled feeling of an egg being broken on my head spread as my body was disillusioned. I buried my broom under the new snow at my feet and slipped out of sight in between two trees standing close together. At exactly four there was a tell tale crack of apparition about twenty meters west of where we stood. Three more followed in quick succession. Draco stepped closer to the banks of the water where he could be more easily seen and lighted the tip of his wand. He held his hand steady and waited for Yaxley to approach him. Yaxley approached Draco with Dolohov right next to him. Dolohov I planned to kill since he was there. It would be retribution for everything he did to Hermione among others, but Yaxley I had special plans for. My hand itched as I gripped my wand and the words formed on my lips. I had to bite my tongue not to do it before the other two Death Eaters arrived. When they did arrive I saw they were masked. Draco looked at them both curiously.

"You have already seen Dolohov," Yaxley said in response to his questioning glance, "but you won't see us all."

"Smart," Draco said sardonically. "Not even Voldemort let us know who all of his followers were."

"Think you're brave, do you? Saying his name like that?" Dolohov hissed and took two quick steps forward until he was within a few inches of Draco's face. His foul breath formed a mist in the air that Draco recoiled from. I refused to wait any longer. Silently I lifted my wand overhead and sent a red spark in the air.

"What was that?" Yaxley spat out turning in a circle. He trained his wand at Draco's throat. "Who else is here, boy?"

Dolohov also pointed his wand at Draco, but before he could open his mouth to say anything Draco staggered away from him muttering 'find me' under his breath. I lifted my own invisible wand and stepped out from the trees. The falling snow fell around me, creating a ghostly snow covered simulacrum of my body, but nobody noticed. I wanted to kill Dolohov with every fibre of my being, but I knew I had to wait until it was in defence of me or Draco or I risked Azkaban even if my victim was a lowlife. Dolohov lashed out with a silent curse that sent Draco sailing through the air and crashing into the tree I had just stepped from. A bright patch of blood was blossoming across the back of his head. Dawlish saw Draco go down and I broke the spell. Everyone paused transfixed as I slowly came into being before them. The split second it took gave the Aurors a chance to surround us all.

"It's the traitor Snape!" Dolohov screamed. "Avada Kedavra!"

I managed to dodge that spell and another that flew from one of the masked men aiming for an Auror. Draco got to his feet and managed to silence Dolohov before he could curse me again, and once more I dodged the sickly green jet of light. It had turned into a full on fight and I planned to take advantage of the situation. I managed to meet Dawlish's eyes as we both duelled and he nodded a yes at my silent question. Pleased I turned on Dolohov just in time to see him throw another curse in my direction. This one I recognized as my slashing hex and blocked it easily. I needed to just get to Dolohov and Yaxley. That was all. Several more masked men appeared in the clearing making things more difficult.

One of the Aurors joined me in the duel and managed to get Yaxley with the Incarcerous. Dolohov looked at his friend and back at me quickly as if debating whether he should help him or not. He settled on not as two Aurors appeared and dragged him away ripping his wand from his hand underneath the ropes as they took him.

"I am going to kill you, Snape!" Yaxley shouted. That is when I heard it. A scream that was quickly stifled, but a scream I would recognize anywhere. A chill went up my spine as I glanced up and saw Hermione sitting behind Harry on his broomstick hurtling towards the ground. The back end of his broom was blazing and out of control.

"Potter too!" Yaxley shouted laughing madly with triumph. "Well done, Snape, well done."

I tried to ignore Hermione as she leapt from the broom and joined the fray. One of the Aurors quickly grabbed Harry and dragged him away disarming him as he went. "Sorry, Potter. I'm on orders. If you were to show up were supposed to detain you to keep you from fighting."

The Auror locked Harry up in a magical sphere similar to the one Voldemort held Nagini in before she attacked me, and left him with the two Aurors guarding the excited Dementor. Harry screamed in protest and beat his fists against the magical bars. Hermione managed to dodge an Auror trying to capture her and a curse from a Death Eater at the same time, but the deflected curse of one of the Aurors went array and hit Hermione in the shoulder. She went flying right into Dolohov who hit her with the Cruciatus before she even reached the ground. My heart splintered into a thousand pieces as I listened to her scream and watched her body contort into unnatural positions as the pain seared through her muscles, veins, and nerves. I pushed my way through the sea of spells and bodies to get a clear shot at Dolohov who all the while did not let go of the curse. Every second she spent under the curse was another second closer to breaking her sanity. I did not know how much she could take.

"Dolohov!" I shouted. He turned his head towards me but kept his wand trained on Hermione who continued to contort and twist on the ground. He was not going to stop.

I raised my wand and yelled the curse before he had a chance to react. "Avada Kedavra!"

Dolohov fell on top of Hermione who lay twitching beneath him. I rushed forward and pushed the heavy body off of her and turned her on her side. I was in the nick of time because she started retching all over me the moment I had her flipped. I was heedless of the battle ending around us as I held her still until she was through being sick. She closed her eyes, but I shook her awake. "Don't fall asleep, Hermione."

"M-me... so a-angry," she choked out before passing out.

"Hermione, wake up!" I shook her again until I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was Draco, his face was covered in blood, but he still somehow looked happy and all right. All of a sudden the noise of the night was flooding back into my ears. I could hear Harry shouting to be released so he could get to Hermione, and I could hear the talk as Aurors gagged Death Eaters and began Apparating with them to the Ministry.

"She will be okay, Severus," Draco said as he knelt next to Hermione and pushed the hair out of her face. I wanted to do that.

"It's time, Severus," Dawlish said gesturing to the Dementor who was hovering over Yaxley. I stood up and walked over to them.

"I told you Yaxley that I would make sure you felt everything you have ever done wrong in your life," I hissed at him. I was sickened by my own desire to see him punished. Thoughts of Hermione were momentarily abandoned as I stood as a witness to Yaxley's demise. It was almost unbearable to watch as the Dementor descended upon the Death Eater and planted his gaping maw over the man's nose and mouth. His body lifted off the ground as the Dementor devoured his soul, and then it was over. Yaxley lay on the ground, alive, but expressionless. He was an empty shell of a man while his soul would rattle around inside the belly of Dementor until the Dementor himself met his own end, which could take millennia. That was a fate worse than death. If he wanted immortality like his old master, he had it.

I let the relief that everything was over settle over me. I moved to Hermione who Draco had somehow managed to coax into a sitting position just as newly released Harry rushed over to help as well.

"No fair justice, wizarding world... no trial. Wrong, but glad it's over," Hermione mumbled through half closed eyes.

"Snape, look out!" Harry shouted as he attempted to fling up a shield to protect me from a jet of purple light aimed straight for head coming from a Death Eater that had managed to hide through the whole thing. Harry's shield barely clipped the spell as it rushed toward me and fragments of it hit my chest. It was enough. The searing pain in my chest blinded me and for a minute I thought my heart was going to explode, but it stopped beating instead and I found myself in the Nothing once more.


	27. Christmas Merry Part 2

Disclaimer: I am not JKR

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 27

We'll Keep Our Christmas Merry Still Part II

The Nothing did not last long. I had no visits from Death, I did not experience even a moment of astral projection. It was just Nothing. Rather than feeling as if I was going to be at peace finally, I felt as if I had really made a cock-up of everything. Before I left the blackness and slipped into blissful unconsciousness I had only one thought. It wasn't fleeting either; it was a pure and whole thought that was so complete it was as if I could read it in words inside my head. I had tossed in everything, every part of who I was good or bad, simply to see some wanker get his soul sucked out. I acted like a foolish Gryffindor and endangered other people at the same time. I would have killed Yaxley in the air that night in the forest if I had any sense. I couldn't forgive myself and Death didn't drop by to berate me, he left me the hell alone and that was worse. No, that wasn't what was worse, he let me live to beat myself up over it. I was more confused than I had ever been. I had no idea who I had become.

When I woke in St. Mungo's the day after the skirmish I was heralded as a hero. The few reporters who did dare enter wanted to know how it felt to assist the Ministry with the capture of eight out ten of the wizards on the Ministry's most wanted list. I was a bloody hero and I hated myself for it. It didn't matter to me who was caught, who was killed, only that I had dragged other people into my mess. Was I happy that Yaxley got Kissed? Of course. He wanted to learn Voldemort's secrets of immortality as much as any other Death Eater. Now his soul can rattle around in the rotting stomach of a Dementor until the Dementor met his end. That could be hundreds of years from now. That satisfied me, but the rest of the victory didn't.

"I know what you're thinking, Severus," Minerva said through pursed lips although her eyes were dancing. I had just finished telling the tenth brave reporter in a row that I had absolutely no comment and Minerva was helping me shoo the last of them out. I had only been awake for an hour and my chest ached as if Hagrid was sitting on it. Draco, fortunately well practiced in counter curses, had immediately recognized the spell used on me and was able to reverse it almost immediately. If it had hit me fully the whole of my insides would have been crushed. I was just glad I passed out before it could spread from heart outward. I have tolerated a lot of pain in my life, but I do not particularly enjoy it.

I pulled myself slowly into a sitting position and taking a deep breath faced Minerva. "Pray tell, what is it I am thinking?"

"That you are not a hero. Severus Snape simply cannot be a hero. It goes against every Slytherin sensibility in your big black heart and you can't stand the fact that what you did actually was for the best," Minerva settled into the chair by my bed with a cup of steaming tea and sipped proudly with her little finger standing jauntily at the end of her hand.

I grunted. "You are an alliterating fool."

"That may be, but I am an accurate one." Minerva settled the cup on its saucer and placed it on the bedside table. "Aren't you going to ask about Hermione?"

"No."

I was dying to know how she was, but I was beyond furious with her as well. She had distracted me and I wasn't about to forgive her for that. She said she didn't want to fight and I was giving her what she wanted, but she showed up anyway and risked everything. Where did it land us? In the hospital. I blamed myself for involving other people in the first place. It was the last time I was going to do something the way I expected other people wanted me to do things. I was beginning to understand how Dumbledore might have felt trying to make decisions for the greater good, even if plenty of his decisions were self-serving too. I could never be a politician because of it.

"Apparently she rounded up Potter the moment she could and they went directly to the Malfoy's where Narcissa was all too happy to tell them where you and Draco Malfoy had gone off to. She is doing well if a bit weak," Minerva continued on despite my negative response. "Don't be too angry with her, Severus."

I ignored her comments about Hermione. "What about Potter? Are you going to expel him?"

"Tempting, but I cannot. He did not fight thanks to my pre-emptive request to have him locked in a cage should he try anything," she said.

I did nothing to hide my disappointment. There was no justice in the world, except for Yaxley. I was still satisfied with that. If I had to live with my misery, then he could live with his and anybody else's the Dementor felt like eating up.

"He has, however, been barred from taking the Auror training entrance exam for one year after he graduates in order to learn how to manage his rash impulses. That was a blow and of course Hermione insisted that she was at fault and wanted to be punished somehow as well." Minerva casually waved her hand as if dismissing the whole thing. "Naturally I did nothing. She is no longer a student after all, and I never said my apprentices could not fight in any battle they wish. Her guilt will be punishment enough. That, and Harry is quite angry with her for dragging him into the mess when he was making a feeble attempt to behave, and Ron Weasley is outraged that they did not include him at all even if it was for his own good. She is lacking in the friend department right now and I did not feel it was necessary to make matters worse."

Minerva ended on a tone that suggested I should not make matters worse either. Hermione's problems were frankly her own and I was prepared to hold a grudge. I was turning back into my old self already. I still loved her, but her refusal to stay safe and out of the way showed a rebellious streak that I was in no mood to tolerate. I was beginning to suspect that maybe she was the mastermind behind a lot of the Golden Trio's transgressions over the years. When I was ready to speak to her again I made a mental note to ask her. Better yet, I would ask Potter. As annoying as I found him, he was a poor liar. Auror training would beat that out of him.

Minerva rose from her chair and looked out the window. "It is a beautiful day outside, Severus. So crisp and clean. Perfect for a fresh start." She turned around and looked me in the eyes. She probed my mind just enough to make sure I was paying attention to her. "It is over, Severus. Your role in this war is done. Stop trying to make sense of what part you played in it and move on. Just be yourself if you can figure out who that is and go build yourself a home."

That was sage advice coming from a crotchety old woman who was becoming just as senile as her Gryffindor predecessor. My own sanity was still in question even if I wouldn't admit it. She was right about one thing. I still wanted to build that house even if I doubted that I was done fighting battles. If I really was a hero, even more so than I was supposed to have after the Final Battle, then that was the ultimate irony for me. I had more offers to help build the house than I could count and most of them came from people who would not have pissed on me if I was on fire less than a year ago. Most of those people felt that way only after they thought I killed Dumbledore. It was right they should apologize to me. Self-righteousness doesn't come in many flattering colours, but I am sure I would have managed to look good in all of them.

"I appreciate your words of wisdom, Headmistress," I said sarcastically. "Do you mind exiting the room so I may dress and leave this place?"

Minerva's thin lips all but disappeared as she frowned at me, but she left the room. It must have taken all the sheer force of her will to refrain from demanding why I wasn't going in to visit Hermione before I left the hospital. I probably should have, but I didn't. Back at Hogwarts I didn't venture out of my quarters until lunchtime the next day. I opted to sleeping off the last of my soreness and the potions that I had taken while I was in hospital. When I did wake I had a letter from Hermione asking if I was all right. I had another from Narcissa full of unusually warm wishes coming from her. Maybe the bad in all of us was just an act. I remember Narcissa as being warm and approachable once upon a time, perhaps that time had returned. I, however, was never warm or approachable.

I responded to only Narcissa's letter and sent it off right before the meal. I felt refreshed and calm despite the dark mood I was still in. I had the plans for my new house in hand and intended to go to the site so I could mark out its dimensions on the ground. Thanks to magic not even a thick layer of hoarfrost and night sky could keep someone from building if they wished to. I was looking forward to the cool air so I could labour alone and think. Unfortunately, fate had other plans, and it could be a real bitch.

The house and head tables were removed as was the fashion during school breaks and only one table full of staff and whatever students stayed over break remained. All of the staff was there, as well as all of the Weasley's including the toe headed baby Victoire, Potter, and of course Hermione. What really surprised me was who was sitting next to Hermione with a smarmy look on his face and leaning in to speak in her ear. Draco. Of course I wanted him to make friends with people from other houses, but he didn't need to start with Hermione. I could see what he was doing. He was interested and he was not hiding it. No, hiding his interest wouldn't be his style. Potter looked extremely uncomfortable at the pair and Ron Weasley was seething. I could see little tendrils of steam rising by his left side where I assumed he held his wand tightly clenched in his fist. I could feel the scowl on my face deepening as Hermione smiled a true smile at something Draco said. As if she could sense my anger her eyes lifted and met mine as I passed through the doorway into the room.

Slowly all the voices stopped and every pair of eyes turned my way. If I was the blushing type beets would have been paled by me, but I managed to keep my cool, block my mind and enter the room with dignity. I had plenty of practice doing that thanks to my unpopular Headmaster days. I moved to make my way towards the unoccupied seat in between Hagrid and Minerva when she abruptly broke into applause. Soon the entire table was clapping for me. I did blush then, out of anger more than embarrassment. I lifted a hand to make them stop and sat down. Hagrid clapped ceremoniously on the back knocking the wind out of me. For the next few moments while I attempted to catch my breath I was heralded with congratulations for helping catch the biggest baddest wizards on the loose. It was more than I could stomach. Didn't any of those foolish people realize what dangers I had caused for the Aurors and Draco? How risky my stupid little plan, inspired by all the stupid little people around me was? That I got off on pure luck? That we all did? No, of course not. The whole world was full of Gryffindor converts thanks to The Boy Who Lived Again and Again and Yet Again. Apparently even Draco was one of them.

When I could finally speak I mumbled something incoherent and then filled my mouth with the mead Hagrid offered before I had to say anything else. Nobody at the table was foolish enough to ask for a speech so Minerva got up and said a few words on my behalf. I ignored them all until she end bit where she said they were all there to help me build my house. I still didn't know who had spread the word that I was building a new one and it was probably a good thing because I might have had to kill them too.

"I wanted to begin that alone," I hissed into Minerva's ear when the room was filled with the sounds of clattering silverware and mealtime conversation. "You had no right to invite all these people."

"I didn't," she hissed back. "It's just the staff and the Weasley's. The very same people you would ask to help you if you were the asking type. Try to be a good sport, right now these people worship the quicksand you walk on."

I ate slightly less than half my dinner and gave a few one word answers to some questions, and a few longer ones to inquiries about the design of my house. Somehow Hagrid managed to get it from me and roll it out on the table so all the men could gather round and discuss the best way to get it up. I tried to remind them all that I hadn't even had the materials delivered yet, but apparently that was already taken care of too.

"These are really meticulous plans, Snape," Bill Weasley commented as he skimmed the blueprint. "You even have the paint colours on here."

I ignored him, gathered up the sheet of paper and stood before the pudding hit table. "If you'll excuse me," I muttered as I left the table. Before I left the room I glanced in Hermione's direction and our eyes met briefly for the first time since I walked in. I left nothing but silence in my wake as I stalked out of the room and went to straight to Hogsmeade. I wondered if that was how things were always done in Normaltown. Large groups of family, friends, and co-workers gathering together to help each other with anything they needed. I didn't need or want their help; we were a wizarding community divided by blood lines, house memberships, and war, not a bleeding Quaker village raising a barn. A few days ago something like that would have made me feel warm and fuzzy inside, but something inside me had snapped. Without resorting to the evil Severus I swore I wouldn't be again I was not going to get rid of them easily. The best I could hope for was that I would have the ground cleared and the measurements done before my helpers finished dessert.

As promised there was a large pile of bricks, wood, and other assorted building materials sitting neatly inside the fence on my property. As luck would have it I did not need to move any of it before I started marking the ground with my wand and some thick twine. As I lost myself in the work I thought of Hermione and how she hadn't seemed happy or sad to see me at the dinner table. The only thing I could remember was the smile Draco had put on her face and how it faltered when she saw me. I was jealous of Draco. I wouldn't deny that even to myself. I wasn't surprised he was being nice to her. He was a Slytherin after all and Slytherins did what was best for their own self-interests and becoming buddy-buddy with the smartest Gryffindor around would fit the bill nicely. Naturally Hermione would be kind to him. The humanitarian in her always saw the good in others not matter how little of it there was. That wasn't the worst part though; the worst part was that Draco, as odd as it sounded, would be better for her than me. He was younger, had a less sordid history, and somehow had grown from a pale, pinched looking little boy into a tall and almost handsome young man. I was selfish enough to want to keep her from Weasley, but I was not so sure I could keep her from Draco if they wanted each other. Once again, my whole world had turned upside down.

I had just finished driving in the last stake when the whole party from Hogwarts sans students trooped onto my property. As much as I grumbled and complained throughout the whole process it went rather smoothly and definitely with a speed that only magic could allow. The walls were sound and seamless and perfect as it went up, each nail hammered into place exactly as I wanted it. By three in the morning the entire project was finished down to the last drop of paint. The only thing left to do was fill it with furniture, and if there was any god in the universe, love and a family. I couldn't help but glance over at Hermione who was standing near Minerva. The latter was mentioning how she preferred painted wainscoting and Hermione was disagreeing saying that the oak was more organic and would look nice with a matching table and chairs. Once again as if she could sense me she met my gaze. I was still angry with her no matter how beautiful she was or how much I agreed with her opinion of the wainscoting. I should have talked to her then, but I didn't.

It was not until four when I finally got the last of the builders to leave the house. I thanked everyone, insisted that I didn't need any housewarming gifts and pushed them all out. I thought perhaps Hermione would linger, but she didn't. She wished me a generic goodbye along with the others and disappeared out the door. Only Draco remained behind.

"Never seen anything like that before," he said quietly from the doorway. He waved a hand around him as if gesturing to everything. "Community and all that. I could get used to it."

I conjured a chair and sat heavily. "I'm sure you could."

"Nice place even if it is a bit small. At least it is in a wizarding village." He conjured and sat down next to me. "I can't believe I spent a whole day and night with a bunch of sodding Gryffindors and didn't get into one fight."

I turned to look at him. His face looked wistful as if he could not believe what just happened. I knew how he felt. "They're good people they just go about things a little differently."

"You're telling me. Listen, I just wanted to say that I was glad to help you, and so was Mum. She is really different now that she is less afraid of what might happen to her being stuck in the house. I was worried about what my father would do, but with less people for him to get involved with the more likely my mother will be able to keep him on the straight and narrow. I know that's not exactly subtle, but I needed to get it out there. Things might not have happened on our terms, but we can't change that, we just have to adapt," Draco said without a hint of self-preservation in his voice. "I mean, I know it looks good to cooperate, but I kind of mean it this time. It isn't all for show."

"What brought on this sudden change of heart?" I asked.

"It isn't sudden, but something Granger said pushed me over the edge."

Now I was interested. I could feel my muscles tensing and I clenched my teeth so tightly my jaw clicked. I did not ask him to elaborate, but he did anyway.

"It was this morning when I arrived at the school to make sure you were all right, we literally ran into each other in front of the library, she had a big bag of books as usual and it spilled everywhere so I helped her pick them up. Hard to believe isn't it?" he chuckled as if he was still surprised by his own behaviour. "Anyway, I picked up a really lovely looking journal and was about to make a comment on how I had one quite similar, but she snatched it out of my hand and stuffed it in her bag. 'I can act civilized every now and then, Granger,' I said. 'Try _being _civilized rather than acting like it,' she said back in a snit. And the next thing you know we were talking."

"Just like that?" I asked sarcastically.

He turned to me frowning slightly. "Yes, Uncle Severus, just like that." He snapped his fingers for emphasis. "She reminded me how many times she and Harry saved my life over the years and said that if I kept biting the hand that feeds me I would eventually starve. I know it is a common saying, but it isn't one that came up often in my house. You know that Father was exactly the type to bite the hand and cut of his nose to spite his face, and whatever other adage you can think of."

"He liked to have his cake and eat it too," I couldn't help throwing out there. "Are you friends now with the Golden Trio?"

"No," he replied honestly. "Potter is too sanctimonious and I always hated Weasley, but I can be civil."

"What of Granger?" I pressed.

He shrugged. "I don't know. She is so damn _good; _it is hard to hate her anymore. I never did and you know that, she was just better at everything and a Mudblood. If she wasn't I think she might have been a Slytherin, or at least tried to go out with her. After the ball in fourth year she really blossomed."

"Don't call her that," I snapped ignoring the comment about her beauty. "And being a Pure-blood is not a one way ticket in or out of any house including Slytherin."

Draco had the grace to look mildly ashamed at that. I was a half-blood and so was Voldemort. Draco knew as well as even that bitch Umbridge did that magic couldn't be stolen. "They probably wouldn't want to be friends with me anyway."

I thought of the look on Hermione's face when he had made her laugh. "Don't be so sure."

Almost the entire week leading up to Christmas went by before I spoke to Hermione again. She didn't write, nor did I, and I didn't see her at the castle. When Minerva made a comment about Hermione coming to visit the castle on Christmas Eve from Grimmauld Place I played off as if I had known all along she was coming. I did not want Minerva to know that we were not in a good place. So, when Minerva commented that they were going to toast Hermione getting all O's on her NEWTs I had to pretend the news wasn't a surprise. I was immensely disappointed that she hadn't written to let me know. I never wrote her to ask though, either. We were supposed to be celebrating being able to be a couple in the open, not acting like we were splitting up. I was afraid that was what was going to happen.

The conversation with Draco was also bittersweet. He opened up and talked to me just as he did before Voldemort returned, even calling me 'uncle' again, but thinking about Hermione was clouding my hindsight. Draco was nothing but a smarmy letch that was probably going to prey on Hermione so that he could look like the poster boy of reformed Death Eater children. What was I going to do? Probably stand aside and let him do it if that was what Hermione wanted, but I wanted her for myself. All for myself. I was jealous and possessive and I wasn't even speaking to her. I really was an ass hole. Still am as a matter of fact.

I purposely made sure I was not in the castle when Hermione arrived for her congratulatory visit with Minerva. I saw the old bat's eyebrows rise when I left the castle after lunchtime to head straight back to my house. She even sent me an owl reminding me to come back and I responded saying I was busy setting up house. I knew she wasn't going to buy it and I would be hearing from her soon.

When there was a knock on my door at half past nine I pulled out a bottle of scotch and opened the door with resignation that Minerva was going to pound into me the importance of good communication and not hurting Hermione. I figured getting drunk in the process would make it much more tolerable. However, it was Hermione standing on the doorstep hands on hips rather than Minerva. She looked incensed. There was not a hint in her body language that said she was happy to see me. Without being invited she stomped past me and waited for me to close the door.

I fought back a smirk at seeing her so irate because it was sexy. Instead I quirked my one eyebrow in a way that only I can seem to do and waited for her to say something.

"I came here to forgive you." Her eyes darted to the bottle of scotch in my hand and she scowled.

"Pardon me?" I asked annoyed. "Forgive me for what exactly?"

"For pushing me out of the fireplace, of course," she said as if I was the stupidest person on the planet. Which I can be. Whenever Hermione is involved I lose all control of my faculties. "And for not coming to dinner at the castle with the other staff. No one else was surprised you weren't there, but I certainly was."

"You didn't invite me to your little party, I had to hear about it from Minerva," I said in self-defence. "But if you want congratulations from me, then fine you have them. Congratulations on your outstanding NEWTs. I knew you could do it."

"Stop patronizing me."

I ignored her and poured myself a scotch neat. She stood in the doorway of the living room her eyes wide open and incredulous. I took a long swallow from the low ball and smacked my lips in satisfaction. Her eyes went from wide to narrow with anger in a nanosecond.

"Oh, how rude of me. Did you want a drink?" I gestured towards the table where I had set the bottle next to another glass and a bucket of ice.

"Why are you so angry with me?" she demanded. "You're the one who broke your promise to let me help you."

"I had to, Hermione. I couldn't have you there, and look what happened to you when you did show up. You got cursed and I nearly got killed making damn sure you didn't. Potter could have gotten expelled all for nothing. We outnumbered the Death Eaters. There were risks, yes, but it was a solid trap and you just interfered." I threw back the scotch and poured another glass. It looked like I was going to get drunk with or without a visit from Minerva.

Hermione's expression didn't change. "I don't care how easy you think the fight is, I couldn't let you go alone."

"That's just it, I was not alone. I was better off with you not being there. You cannot be so stubborn and reckless all the time, Hermione. You need to learn to do as you're told. It is for your own good."

"Very nice, _Professor,_" she spat. "I didn't realize that letting you run off to get yourself killed whenever you felt like it was one the rules of the relationship."

I dragged a hand down my face, in my last effort to control myself before I said something I would always regret. "You still haven't acknowledged the fact that I was not in any real danger until you arrived. Everything was going perfectly smoothly until you showed up and allowed yourself to be tortured," I said icily through gritted teeth.

"_Allowed _myself?" she shook her head in disbelief. "You think I asked for that?"

"Yes," I hissed. "Yes, I do. Simply by being in the wrong place at the wrong time when I thought I made it perfectly clear by not taking you that you were not needed. If I had thought you would be reasonable I would have told you I was not taking you. Your behaviour now proves my point. Even after the fact you still cannot accept that in this one instance you may have been wrong."

Neither of us said anything for a moment. I poured myself another drink and after a moment's hesitation Hermione practically stomped over and poured one for too.

"Is this about almost exposing our relationship? Because I'd say, based on your behaviour since the fight we don't have to worry about that anymore." Hermione raked her eyes across my face looking for a flicker of emotion. I hope none other than anger showed.

"I may not be the most adept at relationships, but I can tell you one thing, if you cannot agree to do as I ask at least some of the time we will always have this very same fight. If you insist on making it about something else entirely than we have no more to discuss. This argument is not about the exposure of our relationship and neither was it meant to be. It is about your unwillingness to do as I need you to do when it is important. Sometimes you have to do what others expect you to do whether you like it or not," I said tiredly letting the anger dissolve into weariness at the repetition of our arguments.

Hermione said nothing for a long moment her face expressionless. Finally she sat heavily on the arm of my new armchair and half smiled weakly as if in dawning remembrance of something she had long forgotten. "Gryffindors really are like that aren't they?"

"What?" I said.

"Harry, Ron, and I did it to each other all the time. So did the rest of the Gryffindors and the members of Dumbledore's Army. We didn't even tell each other when to help or when not to because it was just expected that someone would interfere anyway. It was never just words with us, it was always actions. I was the worst one..." she trailed off in deep thought. I was not sure where she was going with her musings. After another moment her eyes cleared and she looked right in my eyes.

"You are absolutely right. I didn't put the confidence in you that I should have. That's how you see it, isn't it? My safety aside you think I didn't think you could handle it." She smiled and clapped her hands together. "I bruised your ego didn't I?"

"Wrong," I snapped. "You just astutely pointed out that Gryffindors are prone to foolish action and in the same breath admit it is never just words, but then you use those very words that you didn't rely on to make yourself look like a fool. I was not trying to play the hero; you did not bruise my ego. I wanted you away from the fight out of love for you. I regret being as angry as I was because it caused me to distance myself from you, but I will not apologize for it under any circumstances."

She finally had the good grace to blush and look shamefaced. "I should apologize then."

"No. You should not. I do not need nor expect one."

Her eyes flashed momentarily in anger. "If that is the case then why did you push me away so hard so fast? There has to be some sort of explanation. We are risking too much to be together for there not to be."

I couldn't admit to her that perhaps it was better she wasn't with me. I thought again of the way Draco looked at her over dinner and tried to push the thought of my mind. Maybe someday I would admit to her my weakness, but not then. I would just have to confront Draco and perhaps reveal the relationship to him if that was necessary.

"Hermione," I said reaching for her hand. "There are going to more battles to fight over the years. In our world there is too much power and too much resentment at having to hide it to keep the peace for long. Your perspective is horribly skewed being a Muggleborn. You see Muggles as good people and Muggleborns as deserving of magic, and they are, but the Statute of Secrecy is a tremendous thorn in most of our sides. If Muggles knew about us they would study us, lock us away, and massacre us. History has already taught us that. Because of that there will always be battles to fight. _If_ we somehow end up fighting again someday I need to know that you will trust my judgement. I don't want my children orphaned because of your Gryffindor heroics or a foolish desire to protect me in battle. Choosing not to fight when you have other interests to protect is bravery too."

Tears filled her eyes and I bit the inside of cheek to keep my face neutral. I knew the moment the words 'my children' erupted out of my mouth I would regret it. Hermione was good at being stoic and strong when it came to losing loved ones, but just a like a typical girl she went all gaga at the mention of babies. She wrapped her arms around me and I could feel the tears on my neck. With my face safely out of her line of vision I allowed myself a small smile. I let Hermione wet my collar for a minute before I pulled back so that I could kiss her long and slow. I had missed that very much since the last time I was able to do it.

It was another hour before either of us really had anymore use for conversation. As I lie next to her sated and content she turned towards me with a concerned look on her face. "Are we done fighting?"

I let out a bark of laughter. "Haven't you asked me this before? No, love, there will always be something for us to fight about."

"We will never fight about this again though. Lesson learned."

"I hope so."

"It's officially Christmas now," she said glancing at the watch on her left wrist.

It was my turn to be embarrassed. "Yes, well, happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas to you too." Hermione lay back down again next to me, but she kept watching me as if expecting me to say or do something.

She started trailing her fingers across my stomach and chest, but still not saying anything. I closed my eyes and feigned tiredness, but she was still tracing my ribs and smirking after a few more minutes. I snapped my eyes open.

"Damn it, Hermione. I forgot to get you something. Christmas completely slipped my mind this year. I suppose you have some special gift that you put months of thought into." It was about time for our second fight of the evening. I had completely botched our first Christmas together.

To my surprise Hermione laughed loudly. "Took you long enough to admit it. As soon as I mentioned Christmas I could see something was going on."

"You already knew I was insensitive. I don't see why I should have to say it out loud."

"That makes two of us then because I didn't get you anything either," she grinned.

"Well in that case, maybe we both deserve a little punishing," I said as I took her back in my arms and gave her a present that at least I would never forget.


	28. Progress

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Stealing From Thieves Chapter 28

Progress

Fresh snow and a new school year is the perfect recipe for heralding a new year properly. I always thought so, and even when I was in the midst of the worst of my spy duties I would embrace the crispness of freshly fallen snow just before the new term. When it didn't snow my hopes for a peaceful future would be dashed a little until the next year when it would snow again. It was only then for those brief moments of morning before the students tramped their heavy feet through the fresh unbroken ground that I would allow myself to feel as if I had a future as bright as the youths I saw in the windows below. Those moments were fleeting and far between.

On that first New Year after Voldemort's demise the snow was new and perfect and glinting off of every surface making the village and Hogwarts Castle glisten with postcard perfection. For the first time I was enjoying the spectacle all around me rather than from a towering window as I moved through the snow walking from my house to the school to await the students' return for term. It was very early, the sun had barely risen and my own feet were the first to mar the perfect snowfall. Everything around me was so clean and bright I could not help but let the natural magic seep into me until I felt clean and bright as well. And I was.

The previous week had been a dream with Hermione. Whenever she could make an excuse and sneak away from her many friends and their relations we would spend hours making love and turning my house into our home. We replaced furniture and found pictures to hang, and she even managed to drag me into some Muggle stores to pick out towels and sheets. "Wizarding things are fine and good, but the Muggles really do have the best taste in things that don't need magical properties," she said as she held up a sheet for me to feel that was so soft and silky I was not so sure it did not have magical properties hidden in there somewhere after all. So my house in an all wizarding village was slowly filled with a variety of items from non magical stores. It was a perfect balance for us. We were both of Muggle blood and so was our home. Hermione was proud of her heritage and I was not going to argue against it.

At night on the few nights that Hermione was able to spend with me were the only truly peaceful nights we both had. We still had demons haunting us and I know we both dreamed. I of Dumbledore, and death, her probably of her parents and things she had seen as well. She would wake in the middle of the night with tears running down her face and slowly turn away from me as if shifting position. I could feel the dampness on my chest when she cried in her sleep, but she always tried to hide it from me so I did not ask. Soon she would drift to sleep again and so would I, but if she wasn't there I would lay awake for hours. I did not want to discuss my dreams with her yet. How could I tell her that I dreamt of death dangling her and Draco in front of me on fishing lines as they twisted in a lover's embrace while I sat in a cage of my own fears flashing before me in movie reels instead of bars? Even I thought that was a little psychotic. But in the light of day and newly fallen snow those dreams wouldn't plague me.

After a blissful week it was time to face reality and get back into term mode. I had lessons to plan, minds to mould, students to punish, and I still needed to figure out Hermione and I were going to announce to the world our relationship with the least amount of drama. That notwithstanding I had to face the students and the Wizarding world in general once more since the battle in the forest. I loathed it when people looked at me and whispered to their neighbours as I passed, if they weren't cowering away in fear that is. Now that people were really starting to see me as some kind of hero I wondered what the students would be like. It was a completely new feeling to know that I wasn't in trouble for once. I deserved it, Circe knows, but I did not know what to expect. I still disagreed with the whole consensus that what I did was supposed to be heroic and brilliant. Yes, I captured the Death Eaters the Ministry wanted and got my revenge on my own personal enemies, but it was not in my style and that still irked me immensely. Hermione and Minerva were probably right though, I had to look at the methods like a means to an end. And perhaps, if I was lucky, it would be the last thing I would ever have to do in a way other than how I saw fit.

As I approached the gates to the school I could see Hagrid with his pink umbrella in the air melting the snow off the winged boars that stood on either side of the gate. He had already cleared the wide path leading from the Hogsmeade village road to the main entrance of the school.

"Mornin' Professor Snape," he called as I opened the gates and walked through. I lifted a hand in greeting before I paused and gave Hagrid a good long look. He looked older than he did a year ago, but not by much. There was sadness in his eyes still, but they still crinkled in that friendly way when he greeted. I had hurt him so much when I killed Dumbledore. Perhaps I hurt him more than any other simply because he trusted me. I thought of how he quickly he rose to my defence when he learned the truth of my actions and of the few talks we had since then. He deserved more than a raised hand in greeting. I took a few steps towards him.

"Good Morning, Hagrid. It is a beautiful morning, is it not?" I asked.

Hagrid's eyebrows raised a little, but he broke into a grin. "Aye, just gettin' the castle ready for the students. I always love it when it snows."

I nodded my agreement. "Care to join me for breakfast?"

"Of course, Professor," he responded a little uncertainly. There it was, people were as afraid of my good moods as they were my bad. Or at least they did not know how to respond either way.

I took a few steps towards the castle and I didn't speak again until he was walking beside me.

"Severus," I said.

"Pardon?"

"Call me Severus, we are both professors after all. There is no need for you to use the honorific." What I was really saying was that we were more than equals.

"Huh, all right then, uh Severus," he said glancing at me from the corner of his eye. I did not look at him, but I did smile. It came unbidden and I felt it warming my face from the cold outside.

Hagrid clapped me on the back in response so hard I lost my step and started to tumble forward until he found my arm and pulled me upright again.

"Sorry, Profes—er Severus," he grunted. His face was red with embarrassment and I could see that he was afraid I would berate him.

"That's quite all right," I said. I let the smile slip from my face and forced myself not to laugh. No sense in acting like a goon. I had a friend though, so far so good.

Hermione returned to the castle on the train with the rest of the students. I purposely planned to take my dinner in the Great Hall around the time I expected the students off the train to come and eat because I was eager to see her again. Since our relationship was still secret of course I could do nothing, but the thought of seeing her was sending little thrills through my stomach like it never had before. I was always pleased to see her ever since I was a spirit, and I had begun to love her even then, but it wasn't until that day that it hit me that not only was I in love with her, but I actually had a crush on her too. I was finally allowing myself to feel like a schoolboy and the thrill of it made me want to keep our secret a little longer.

Just like a schoolboy with a crush I felt my stomach turn into an acidy knot when I saw Hermione walk in the Great Hall side by side with Draco. They were deep in discussion about Merlin knows what and I wanted to know what it was more than anything in the world. I wanted to be part of that conversation and my good mood was almost entirely dashed as I was reminded once again of how young and vibrant they both were and how good they looked standing next to each other. Seeing them friendly with each other was a good thing, but I could not help but think that Draco had some sort of ulterior motive. He liked her; I could see it in the way he looked at her when she wasn't looking back. Hermione didn't look at him with the same kind of fondness she looked at me though. For the life of me I still wondered why. I felt so old. Good enough for her, yes, but much too old.

They both saw me at the same time and Draco nodded in acknowledgment. Hermione smiled brightly at me and I felt my lips twitch in response. I nodded curtly and returned to me meal. Minerva chose that moment to swoop in and take a seat next to me.

"Your face will not break if you actually smile at the students, Severus," she said, exasperation in her voice. "Although, if you are still insisting on maintaining your surly reputation I suppose I will not interfere."

"You are a doddering fool. Is that due to age or is that what every Head of this school has to look forward to?" I took a sip of my wine before putting the goblet down a little harder than necessary. "I never see you smile."

The Headmistress's lips crinkled slightly. "I do smile. Speaking of age, you are looking younger than ever. And quite handsome I might add."

"That is preposterous." I scowled.

"Of course it isn't," she snapped. "You have exhausted my patience already. I am through being nice to you. How Granger puts up with it, I have no idea. I need to speak with you after the meal in my office. I am calling a staff meeting. Thirty minutes, Severus."

I decided to leave the table then. Lately I always seemed to leave Minerva's presence feeling chastised and it was always over things that I least expected. As I wandered out of the Hall I passed by Hermione who had sat at the Gryffindor table and was chatting with Neville Longbottom. I brushed her back gently. The Hall was fairly empty as it usually is after the holidays when students wander in to eat as they arrive throughout the day, but the Weasley's were present, if not grumpy looking and I wondered vaguely where Potter was.

I decided to while away the half hour until the staff meeting in the library, but on impulse I slipped inside a boy's lavatory and looked in the mirror. I carefully inspected my face and saw that I did indeed look a little bit younger. I tried out a smile that was more of a grimace, but still improved since my teeth were fixed. I was not yet used to it. My eyes were still black as usual, but there were fewer lines around them, and my hair was less lank and greasy. Potion fumes tended to ruin it, but being away from the lab and using Hermione's shampoo for a week had done wonders.

"Hmmm," I mumbled to myself thoughtfully. A second year Gryffindor boy chose that moment to enter the loo and upon seeing me immediately turned tail and ran out the door. That did make me smile. I still had it in me, even when I was actually feeling like a nice guy.

I was pleased and surprised when at the staff meeting Hermione took the seat directly next to me without any pretence.

"We need to talk soon," she murmured under her breath.

I glanced at her quickly. She appeared as if she was trying not to look distressed.

"I have rounds until midnight."

"Library alcove at midnight then."

The room quieted down as the last of the staff arrived and Minerva began the meeting. It was the same old new term dribble so I tuned most of it out until she got to new business.

"I would like to formally welcome Hermione Granger onto the staff as my full apprentice and new Transfiguration teacher. I am sure you will all make her feel welcome and assist her should she need anything. Professor Sprout has announced that she will be retiring at the end of this year. We will be looking for her replacement among students as well as outside of the school so if you have any recommendations for apprentice feel free to pass them along, although I do believe we have a student in mind for the position. If there are no objections Professor Sprout and I would like to offer it to Neville Longbottom," she paused to examine the faces around the room for agreement. There were few objections. I personally think Longbottom can be dim-witted, but that is due to nerves more than any real lack in aptitude. He was very good at Herbology though, no doubt, and another war hero.

"Finally, Professor Vector has been offered a part time position working with the Department of Mysteries doing something she is not at liberty to disclose." There was a polite smattering of applause. "Because of it she is resigning her position as head of Slytherin House. As you know that role has been traditionally filled by members of the same house, but it is not a requirement and anyone interested may submit their name to me before Friday. That is all I have."

The teachers left in a group talking about Minerva's announcements Hermione among them. I held back for just a moment.

"Minerva," I said when everyone had left. "Are you seriously considering giving Slytherin head of house to a non-Slytherin?"

"No, I fully intend to give it back to you, but I have to offer it around. I thought there might be the slightest chance you would not want it seeing as you have a home outside of the castle and would be away more often." She did not look up from a pile of parchments she was straightening on her desk.

I was slightly offended. "I have always had a home outside of Hogwarts."

"You know full well what I mean, Severus." She finally looked up. "Does that mean you want the position?"

"Do you honestly think that any other teacher will put in for it knowing I am here?"

"No."

"Then what is with the diplomatic fencing? You are beginning to sound more like a politician every day," I said with a little more sting than I had intended.

"Be careful, Severus, I am hardly in the mood. What is the status of your relationship with Miss Granger?" she demanded in an abrupt change of subject.

I faltered in my annoyance. "Excuse me?"

"What is the status of your relationship with Miss Granger?" she repeated. "It is a simple question. If you are still involved I assume you will want to go public at some point. I just have one piece of advice to offer you."

"Yes?" I said, my curiosity piqued.

"Make it gradual so that no one is completely surprised. I fear there will be an inquiry from the school governors if you announce one day that you are a couple without any warning. Especially so soon after Hermione finally graduating," she said firmly. Then her expression softened. "Are you happy, Severus?"

I know she was asking more than if I was simply happy with Hermione. "I am getting there," I replied honestly.

"Good, but please take my advice."

"She is of age, it does matter whether we decide to announce immediately or in a year. Why do I feel like you are pandering?"

Minerva sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. I noticed that Dumbledore was awake in his portrait and listening intently. "I am trying to protect you and the school, Severus. It has been difficult keeping the Ministry out of the school's affairs and I am afraid even a whiff of a scandal will bring them in full force. The school has attracted enough attention as it is."

For a brief moment Minerva looked very tired and alone. She was a small pinched figure in a grand room and was overwhelmed. Any biting retort I had regarding her politics died in my throat.

"If I can be any assistance..." I trailed off not really sure what I could do for her at the moment.

"I thank you," she said. "May I please talk to you frankly about Hermione?"

"Nothing has stopped you before," I said quietly.

She frowned but only a little. "I know that. You realize that Hermione is the closest to a daughter or granddaughter I have ever had. Not being able to have children of my own I found it particularly easy to become attached to her. I approve of your interest in her, and believe it or not, her interest in you, but someone has to speak for her as a representative of her family. What are your intentions? Do you have any plans of making an honest woman out of her?"

I felt a blush creeping up my cheeks. It was one thing to talk of our sex life in the offhand way Minerva sometimes did, it was something else entirely to make me sound like a letch or her indecent.

"I cannot imagine being with anyone else. I have only ever wanted one other person and that was incredibly foolish in comparison," I said. I had thought of children and our house and a future, but getting married and having an actual ceremony was something I did not think about much at all. I wondered if Hermione did. Of course she did she was female after all. "Has she spoken to you about it? We have only been acquainted beyond a professional relationship for seven months or so, and three of that I was out of body. I thought maybe it was too soon to speak of that kind of thing."

"Even if she had spoken to me I probably would not tell you. Call me old-fashioned, Severus, but I would like to see you court her properly from now on. Not only would it make me feel better, but it will also make your relationship look new to the public. Of course, I cannot tell you what to do, and I cannot stop you from sneaking around." She looked at me intently while she waited for a reply.

"Thank you for your advice," was all I said. I was extremely uncomfortable with how heavy the atmosphere in the room had become. Somehow Minerva had become Hermione's mother and father in one swoop and I no longer wished to speak to her about the relationship. I had a feeling the next time I did it would be to ask for Hermione's hand in marriage. I had other reasons for not proposing. If I was going to ask anyone for her hand in marriage it was going to be her real father's. Of that I still had hope.

At midnight exactly I met Hermione in the library alcove. We were alone at this hour with even Madam Pince gone to bed. I pulled Hermione into my arms and gave her the kiss I had been wanting to all day. She tasted of peppermints.

When we broke apart she showed me the handful of mints she was chewing on. "Want one?"

"Why not?" I said taking the candy and popping it into my mouth. "Is everything all right?"

Hermione transfigured the hard library chair in front of her into a plush and wide armchair and sat down. She patted the seat next to her and I sat down with her.

"Minerva spoke to me today about our relationship. Did she speak with you?"

I wondered if Minerva's conversation had gone completely like mine. If Hermione wasn't thinking of marriage yet before, no doubt the seed had been planted. "Yes," I admitted.

"She said we should go slowly and date in public, so to speak," Hermione said watching my face carefully.

"That is what she said to me as well," I answered taking her hand in mine. "Do you agree?"

"At first I didn't," Hermione said surprising me. "But then I looked at her and she was so stressed I felt that I could not refuse her anything."

"I felt it too."

"I guess that means no more meetings like this for awhile." She sighed. "We probably won't be alone much at all for awhile."

I smiled and pulled her close. "We don't have to go that far back in time. It isn't as if we will need a chaperone. It might not hurt to stop meeting in secret until no one would be surprised if we got caught. Did you suspect that Minerva was worried about the school governors doing an inquiry because of it?"

"Suspect? No. She flat out told me that. Arthur Weasley also happened to mention that the Ministry is watching the school like a hawk, and you as well. It seems that no matter how you behave there will always be someone in power questioning your loyalties."

I felt deflated. My earlier good mood tainted by my past just like every other good thing that might happen to me.

"Was that all you wished to speak to me about? You seemed distressed earlier today," I said.

Hermione shifted so she could sit facing me. "It's Harry. He said that he was probably going to use the floo or fly here, but I haven't seen him yet and I am afraid that he isn't coming back at all."

Tears started to form in her eyes and she blinked them back.

"He seemed fine when I saw him over break, but over the last few days he was really touchy. He had a terrible row with me and Ron, and he broke up with Ginny the day before yesterday. I know that he has been stressed out and cranky, but I always figured it was just after effects from everything that has happened. Now I am not so sure." She blinked again, but one fat tear fell down her cheek.

"What did you argue about?" I asked.

"You, Draco and I becoming friends. Everything. He said that nothing will ever be the same again and that we all expect him to become and Auror and be this shining example of a good wizard and he doesn't want any part of it."

I could sympathize.

"And then he got in a fight with Ron after he broke it off with Ginny. I expected that. The first time he broke up with her Ron had a hard time keeping quiet about it. At least he understood why then. No one understands this time," she finished wiped her face with a handkerchief.

I understood, at least I thought I could understand what he was going through. Hermione had been through horrible things herself and she was always such a rock for everyone around her. She had to have a breaking point too. I hoped that I never did anything to get her to it.

"Does the Headmistress know that he is not here yet?"

Hermione shook her head. "I will go to her tomorrow if he does not turn up in time for classes and tell her what I know."

"Good."

"Will you go with me to find him and talk to him if he does not come back?"

She could ask me to make the sun rise in the north and I would have burnt the magic out of myself trying to do it for her. Vulnerable and beautiful women are the curse of the strongest men.

"I will do anything for you," I said and kissed her gently on the lips. "Now go to bed."

That night as I lay in bed wishing Hermione were with me, I was unable to sleep. My mind was racing with what I was going to do about courting Hermione properly, as if I knew how, how much I was going to tell Draco about her, and what to do about Harry. I was worried about Minerva too. It just dawned at me that Hermione and I did not even get a chance to talk about my being Head of Slytherin again and that was something I was really pleased about. That night I dreamt that I was walking to my house in Hogsmeade and Death was standing in front of it and as soon as I could see him he would light a fuse and blow the house up and laugh. He did it over and over again and every time he did I fell to my knees weeping in despair. When I woke with a start my face with wet with tears.


	29. A Friend is One Who Walks In When Others

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 29

_A Friend is One Who Walks in When Others Walk Out_

I found Potter early the very next morning coming out of the Gryffindor dormitory. Fortuitously I had woken earlier than usual and went to the seventh floor so that I could get a book from the library and I turned a corridor just in time to wad up his blasted genius of a map and throw his invisibility cloak over his head at the other end. I did not break stride. I swept forward and went into the library as if he wasn't clumsy with his disguise and got my book. At least I could tell Hermione that he was in the castle and safe. Why he was hiding was beyond me. I always liked to pretend that he enjoyed all the attention he got. Maybe he was planning on making a particularly spectacular entrance. I doubted it though. All my years of fantastical thinking that Potter was a spoiled and selfish brat had evaporated quite quickly after his arrival at Hogwarts eight years prior. That didn't make me think he wasn't capable of showboating.

At breakfast, I sat next to Minerva as usual, but made sure there was an empty seat on my right for Hermione. I saw Bill Weasley making eyes at the vacant chair when he wandered into the Great Hall and I scowled at him as if to say I was in no mood for conversation. He changed direction and took a seat further down the table to Minerva's left. When Hermione walked in I smiled widely. I know I must have looked goofy, but I was just so damn happy to see her. I stood up and pulled out the chair next to me so she could sit down. I received many curious glances, Hermione blushed, and Minerva nodded her approval, and based on Bill's expression I would say he'd forgiven me for the scowl. I could picture him running straight to his mother after school's end with the gossip. _"Mum, you'll never believe it, but _Snape_ pulled out Hermione's chair like he'd been waiting on her. You heard me right, _Snape_!" _Joy.

Hermione scanned the Gryffindor table every few minutes during the meal. "I still haven't seen Harry," she said.

"I did, but he doesn't know that I saw him. He will make his appearance in good time, I have no doubt."

Hermione sighed heavily. "This is serious. He was really upset. And have a look at Ginny."

I followed her gaze to the only young Weasley girl. She was playing with her cereal and her eyes appeared red and puffy even from my distance. Ron sat across from her watching her. Occasionally he threw a glance towards the door or towards Hermione.

Hermione continued in under her breath. "He's not trying to plan some grand entrance."

I couldn't admit that I had thought that very thing just a couple hours earlier so I simply nodded. "I agree, but I still believe we should wait and see what happens when classes begin. I am sure he didn't come here just to skip them."

Hermione looked surprised that I had agreed so readily with her. She was, as usual, prepared to fight in defence of her friend. I hoped someday that she would not feel it necessary anymore. I wasn't planning on making it a habit of insulting her friends all the time. At least to her face.

"Oh," she said as she stood up from the table. "I guess we will talk about it later then."

Later actually came sooner. While Hermione was off battling the first years in Transfiguration, Potter came slinking into the classroom just before bell. It was sneaky and smart of him, knowing full well that nobody could accost him with questions just before I was about to begin class. Weasley never had much tact or concern for his lack of it, however, and I gracefully saved Potter by opening my mouth to speak just was Weasley did.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for interrupting, Weasley." I purposely did not draw attention to Potter for being very nearly late as I would have in the past. Hermione would have been so proud if she was there. I felt physical pain. Old habits die very, very hard. With an enormous effort I began my lecture.

At the end of class I was planning to stop Potter and give him detention if I had to just so I could speak with him, but he surprised me by stopping at my desk on his way out.

"Do you have time to talk to me today?" he said quickly and then added, "Professor."

"Four, my office. I was going to give you detention anyway," I responded without looking up. Potter opened his mouth in indignation, but then closed it sharply, nodded and stalked out of the room where I heard Ron call for him in the hallway. I almost felt sorry for him, the Weasley's were adept at taking anyone to task and I am sure the intervention they had planned for Potter was not going to be pleasant. I got up and opened the door to the classroom to find a fuming Ron staring at Harry's retreating back. Apparently he was not going to make it easy for Weasley to harangue him about breaking up with Ginny Weasley and whatever he else he had supposedly done wrong to slight the Weasley clan.

"Move along, Weasley," I said to the young man. He gave me a short red-faced and angry stare before doing as he was told. I always admired the way the Weasley matriarch could raise such a large brood of children whilst babysitting her husband and making sure everyone was fed, clothed, and mostly clean for all those years without the family splitting apart in utter turmoil. My own mother barely had time to take of care her only child for the strain her marriage put on her. They were always so fiercely connected and supportive of one another. When Percy turned against his family I was frankly stunned by the ferocity with which they could turn on each other as well. That did not bode well for Harry.

As I predicted Potter was nowhere to be seen at lunch. Luna Lovegood sat at the Gryffindor table with Ginny encouraging her to eat. Ginny's eyes were still red rimmed and puffy, and despite the Ravenclaw's efforts she still only pushed her food around her plate. I actually felt pity for the girl. Hermione had not made it to the Great Hall for lunch and I was feeling her absence acutely. I could only imagine how I would feel if our relationship was over. I was beginning to think that no pain I had suffered to date would prepare for the loss of Hermione. I heaved an audible sigh and pushed my plate away.

"Missing someone, Severus?" McGonagall quipped over her goblet of water.

I grunted. "Only my ability to not care about anyone, or anything."

"Humph, I was unaware you ever had that ability."

I'd had enough of that conversation, and lunch.

I met briefly with Hermione at the end of the day's lessons. I found her in her classroom restoring several disfigured teacups back into dazed and haggard looking small animals.

"The perils of Transfiguration," I mused aloud. "Once, when I was in my third year, James Potter, in an attempt to impress Lily, tried to transfigure a rat into a turtledove. The rat exploded everywhere. It was quite disgusting and Lily was furious at James. I rather enjoyed it."

Hermione finished caging the last of the animals without responding, but I could see a small smile playing on the corners of her mouth.

"What?" I asked.

"I don't know," she shrugged. "It's just nice to hear you talk about your past in such a normal way. You never tell me stories like that. You never tell me any of the things you did with your friends for fun."

"My friends grew up to be Death Eaters."

"Still," she said.

Hermione and I exited the classroom together to join the throng of students heading to the Great Hall for dinner. Being with Hermione reminded me that we both skipped lunch and my stomach growled fiercely. I still had Harry's four o'clock appointment and papers to grade. I was suddenly and violently reminded that I was back in my mortal body. It had been weeks since I had dreamt about or thought of Death in any great detail, and for the first time I was beginning to think that maybe he was done with me. Still, the thought increased my awareness of my surroundings and it was not shocking, only merely unpleasant to see the students staring as I escorted Hermione down the hall. Something about the whole situation made me feel out of place in a new way. It didn't have anything to do with why people might be staring, or even that they were I was far too used to that. It was something different entirely. Being with Hermione was all right, it was everything else that was wrong.

I pushed those new thoughts aside and instead focused on my meeting with Potter. The last thing I expected was for him to seek me out. When I returned to my classroom it was a few minutes after four. I was expecting to arrive just in time to see Potter rushing in fashionably late as usual. On the contrary he was leaning against my office door in the back of the classroom with an impatient look on his face. Blindsided by the sudden reversal in our usual roles I said nothing as I unlocked my office door and allowed him in ahead of me.

"You are early," I grunted as I lit a lamp on my desk.

"I was, but that doesn't mean you weren't late," Harry retorted.

I appreciated the rancorous ease with which he responded. I may have punished Potter hundreds of times for his cheek, but if I looked at it with the crystal clear hind sightedness I possess now I see that I enjoyed his rare moments of wit.

In the flickering glow from the hurricane lamp Harry looked waxen and pale. His skin was almost white in stark contrast to his raven black hair, and the green in his was dull and devoid of the life I was accustomed to seeing there. Yes, he did resemble both of his parents. However, it was not either of them I looking at in his sullen and listless expression. It was me. Abruptly I started a fire in the grate and grasping Potter's arm we went by floo to my house in Hogsmeade.

Once there I went about turning on lights and warming the place up. Harry followed me into the kitchen where I made some tea and placed it on the table in front of him. After a moment's hesitation I retrieved a bottle of Old Ogden's from the liquor cabinet and two square cut rock crystal whiskey glasses. I poured a generous dollop in them both and offered one to Harry. He took it and threw the contents back with a sigh of relish.

"Are you ready to tell me why you asked for this meeting yet?" I asked. The first words spoken since we left the office.

"I know I should be talking to Hermione instead of you," he began as if he had rehearsed this speech. "And I am going to because she is my best friend; at least I hope she still is after all the arguing we have been doing lately. Anyway, I broke up with Ginny."

"I know," I add unnecessarily completely unsure where this was going.

Harry nodded. "I figured as much. I, er, you and Hermione, it is going good right?"

I raised an eyebrow at him and refilled both our whiskey glasses. The tea was growing cold and we both ignored it.

"I mean," Harry stammered on, "she doesn't talk about you much because I think she is afraid that I don't want to hear it because it is you, but I would be glad to hear anything at all if it meant that she was happy."

"Are you here to simply question my motives regarding Hermione?" I asked. I was not upset or offended by the possibility that that was his goal. Someone needed to look out for Hermione's best interests and I felt a great respect for Potter that he was once again sticking up for his friend. His eyes started to darken at my response and I could see that not only was wrong about his motives, but that he had fully expected it.

"No."

"I will not speak for her, Potter, but I will tell you that in a way that is completely unreliable and even more unfamiliar to me I am very happy. " I drank my whiskey.

Harry fiddled with his glass for a moment. "She is happy."

He didn't look at me when he said it. I could sense in him solitariness in him powerful enough to put a tiny fissure in my own rock hard heart. His eyes were green like his mothers, but they harboured none of his mother's light. His face resembled his father's, but his expression held no trace of his father's mischievousness and it never had. He was a physical product of Lily's love for another man, but emotionally he was completely his own. Never before had I realized how close he could have been to my own. It would have taken only one decision, Lily over the Death Eaters, and he might have been mine, with the same green Lily eyes, the same black hair and pale skin, but maybe with just a longer leaner face. Suddenly I knew why it was me he wanted to talk to.

"I am afraid the Weasley's will never want me around again. This is the second time I broke Ginny's heart, but this time I mean it. I was suffocating with her. She reminded me of what everybody said my mother was like so I was attracted to her, but that really started to freak me out so I ended it. I love her, sure, but just like I do Hermione and not even as much. I don't want anything to happen to her or anything, but I realized that if I had to rescue Ginny or Hermione from a burning building and absolutely had to, and could only, rescue one, I would go for Hermione. I even like Ron more. Things just fizzled out and I was with her for the wrong reasons I think. The Weasley's were expecting us to live happily ever after forever and ever, and I could not see myself with someone in that way if they weren't on the top of my list for saving. That is sick and morbid to think of I guess, but it is the only thing I could come up with that was dramatic enough to compare to how I feel." He paused and took a deep breath. "I guess I just need to know if I made the right decision. Maybe Ginny is right for me and I need to be patient. I have been thinking about it for months and I never talked to her about it, I just ended it."

"Nobody will be able to tell you if you made the right decision," I said. "The question is really: can you live with the decision you made? Would you be staying with her just to keep the Weasley's, incidentally the nearest thing you have to a family, in your life?"

Harry turned his head slightly away from me. There were tears brimming in his eyes and I could see him working to not let them spill. After a moment he could not avoid blinking any longer and when he did the tears fell. He swiped at the offending symbol of pain with his free hand quickly as if I might not notice if he was just swift enough. The mean and callous part of my brain that usually reigned supreme in Potter's presence was no longer accessible to me. All the years I tried to ignore Dumbledore's ramblings about my affection for the boy, and my respect for him washed over me like a well spring burst open. It was cool and refreshing just like when I discovered I loved Hermione.

"I guess I have to live with my decision, like it or not." He still didn't look at me. "Are you going to marry Hermione? Raise a family?"

"Harry," I began, "you are not going to be left alone in the world."

He scoffed. "Horrors. My life has been a series of horrors. I am still just a kid. I don't know how to grow up because I never had a childhood. I have been fighting Voldemort since I was year old, I faced death and survived, and even though it is supposed to be over with a happy ending I still have to fight the ghosts and demons that won't leave me alone. You are the only person in the world I can think of that even knows remotely how I might be feeling and I am afraid that at any moment you are going to throw me out for being cowardly and sentimental. And you just happen to be the very person who is going to take away my last refuge, the last best friend I have."

"In answer to your first question, yes I do want to marry Hermione and have a nice normal family. I want to make an attempt to reunite her with her family first, and I need to make some other decisions regarding my future as well, but she will always be there for you. I would never presume to keep Hermione away from anyone or anything. You should know her better than that," I said.

Harry laughed weakly.

"I will not throw you out either. Hermione would never forgive me for it. As irksome as your sentimentality can be Potter, I have finally realized the therapeutic benefits of having someone be your friend."

"Hermione would be so proud," he said finally looking a little happier. "We'll make it our little secret then."

I don't know if it was my continually weakening heart or the whiskey but I actually laughed at that last comment. I reheated the tea and we both drank a cup.

"I still want to be an Auror," Harry said after his last swallow. "I may not want a lot of the same things I thought I did, but I definitely still want to be an Auror."

"I no longer want to be a teacher." I surprised us both with the admission.

"Er, uh, I thought that was what you always wanted," Harry stammered.

"No. It is what I expected of myself. To fashion young minds in such a manner that they come out less inclined to become Death Eaters and maybe a little bit wiser for it, but that is too much for me to hope. Human nature is as difficult to capture and manipulate as an ocean tide, and I will leave the challenge to younger and fresher minds than my own. You are much wiser to become an Auror. I know Headmistress McGonagall would like for me to become Headmaster, but I am done pandering. Hermione would be much better in that position in the future. She is a lot like McGonagall, strong, diplomatic, fierce, and with just enough feminine instinct to keep the peace. I think that I would like to follow your dear Godfather's advice and run along and play with my chemistry set. I find brewing potions relaxing, rewarding, and always a challenge all at the same time. It doesn't hurt that there is money it as well." I also didn't mention that I would be free to pursue Hermione in the open a lot more quickly if I severed my ties to the school and that felt more important than anything else. I was sick of people staring at me in the hall. I didn't deserve it, and neither did Hermione. Falling in love with someone is the last thing in the world a person should made to feel ashamed of.

"Does Hermione agree with this?" Harry asked. "Not that it matters, it is your life."

"It does matter, Harry. I want it to be our life. Our lives are not mutually exclusive. I value her opinions and what I do will have an effect on her and vice versa. Perhaps it is best you ended it with Ginny if you can't see that being committed to someone is being but one half of a whole. I don't know though, she does not know about this. This is a decision I have made only very recently. I would appreciate you said nothing until I have a chance to discuss it with her."

Harry smiled. "I used to want you to just leave me alone because I thought you were never going to change. For once I am really pleased to have you prove me wrong."

I set my features into my old familiar disapproving scowl, but I couldn't hold it for long. In the end I burst out laughing and so did Potter. "I too, Potter. I, too."

That evening after a late meal I arranged for Hermione to sneak out and spend the night with me in our house at Hogsmeade. Our house. Our. Us. We. Together. All of the words that implied me with another were like a soothing balm to the loneliest and most solitary parts of my soul. They were the words that sustained my cracked and fragile heart, the ointment that made it heal. Hermione wanted to immediately launch into a discussion about my afternoon with her friend, but I distracted her with soft kisses and tender love making. As I caressed every curve and tasted every drop of her I took in her very essence, and in return as I pushed my body against hers I whispered all the promises of love and happiness that I hoped would sustain her as well.

Afterwards with Hermione nestled in the crook of my arm she finally asked. "What happened this afternoon?"

"Must we discuss this now?"

"I have to keep you talking because you always push me aside when you fall asleep and I want you to keep holding me." She smiled and batted her eyelashes against my cheek. I liked to think that I was the only person in the world who knew she was capable of being a flirt.

"That's not fair. You don't exactly like to cuddle when you are asleep either. Alas, I cannot resist your charms. It went fine. I did not kill him and he will heal from his wounds in due time."

She hit my shoulder lightly. "Stop it, I'm serious."

"So am I."

"Just be his friend, love. That is all he needs. I think it is best you speak with him yourself. I do not think anything we discussed needs to be held in any kind of confidence, but I think it would more appropriate for you to go to him," I said.

"Easier said than done. How am I supposed to talk to him if he keeps avoiding me?"

"I don't think he will anymore."

She sighed deeply and kissed me. "Fine. I trust you."

A few moments later just as I was about to drift off to sleep she said, "Why can't this be our life already? Us coming home and going to bed together. It hardly seems fair."

"This will be our life sooner than you might think," I murmured sleepily.

Hermione raised her head. "What?"

"Shhh, go to sleep," I ordered gently.

Reluctantly she obeyed.


	30. Interrupted Plans

Disclaimer: I am not JKR. I don't anything and I write for fun not for considerable amounts of compensation.

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 30

Interrupted Plans

"You want to do what? Minerva is going to kill you!" Hermione said as I explained to her my sudden shift in career ideals. We were gathered in her office after a late night of grading papers and rounds. "I mean she is really going to kill you dead. Forget snakes and rogue Death Eaters."

What Hermione was saying had indeed crossed my mind several times over few days prior to me telling her. I had another dream about Death. This time his messenger was sitting on my stoop in Hogsmeade. I was prepared to be blocked from my home as if it was some sort of signal that I was going to have to face another trial during my waking hours, but that did not happen. He stood up and held his hand out towards my door as if welcoming me home. I hesitantly stepped inside and nothing happened. The dream ended. Maybe I was starting to get the right idea and Death is really finished with me for now. I did not feel threatened for once in my dreams, still I would rather have had the Cloak of Invisibility that Potter carried around to protect me from death instead. It would have disturbed my rest much less. Sometimes I wonder how much the cloak really protected Harry if it was the cloak of legend and Death fashioned it himself. That cloak would have kept him as safe as any other magical means.

"What about you, Hermione?" I asked. "Would you be happy with my decision to leave the school and pursue another career in potions and research?"

"You can do that here."

"I would be limited here," I said sighing. She sounded disappointed.

Hermione stepped around the small table in her office to sit in my lap. I breathed in the scent of her and stroked her hair.

"I suppose your time would be limited. And maybe you wouldn't be able to work on things that might seem inappropriate for a school," she mused aloud. "I am happy for you if that is what you want to do. Actually I think it is a wonderful idea, I am simply being selfish. We are stuck in this limbo where we can't really let the world know we are together yet and I don't want to think that there will be days when you are not here and I won't see you at all."

I kissed her neck and she wriggled sensuously against me. "Hermione, you are missing the bigger picture. The moment I sever my ties with this school I am no longer obligated to honour the codes of conduct. Nobody can comment on my being with you at all. Well, they could, but it would just be idle gossip and nothing you could get sacked for. I am really tired of feeling a fish in a bowl all the time. I want to step away from all this and live a slightly more private life that I think suits us both much better."

"Well in that case," she paused to kiss me long and deep, "we have a lot of love making to do before Minerva puts you in the hospital."

In the morning Hermione seemed a lot more apprehensive about my decision than she did the night before. On our way to breakfast she kept badgering me about the suddenness of my decision and that maybe I was either being over sensitive to the attention I thought I was getting. When I pointed out to her the many members of the student body and faculty that paused to stare at us as we walked side by side she shut her mouth on that score. Instead she changed tactics and tried to focus on how much I used to love teaching.

"Are you sure you aren't going to miss and then decide that you want to come back?" She plodded along as if I hadn't just tried to get her to drop it. "You always seemed so sure about it."

"I do love teaching; I am just finished with this place. Maybe someday I will have the opportunity to share my research at a University or something. All I know is that I am finished here. Are you trying to talk me out of it?" I was exasperated and I didn't even wait for Hermione to respond. I pushed past her and took my seat next to Minerva at the Head Table for breakfast. Students up and down the tables were poring over their magazines and glancing at me and then whispering behinds their hands. I saw many people point at Hermione too. She looked confused but ignored it gracefully.

Before Hermione could catch up with me and sit down, Bill Weasley flopped into the seat next to me and began heaping food on his plate in true Weasley fashion. I have eaten several of Molly Weasley's meals, they are nothing short of perfection and she is the master of making a meal stretch far and wide. It will always be a wonder to me why every Weasley male that went through Hogwarts ate as if they never got fed at home. I must have mumbled something to that effect aloud because Bill glowered at me.

"Fleur still she thinks fat after the baby. You could snap her like a twig and now she's got us all on bloody diets, thank you very much," Bill snapped as he speared a large forkful of bloody steak and dipped it into a dripping egg yolk. I wondered what I had done to him to earn such a response. He should have been used to my flippant and offhand comments by then.

"Your appetite may be legitimately wolfish, but I daresay your brothers have no excuse," I replied immediately regretting it. I wasn't supposed to be that callous and hateful man anymore and I hit him where it would hurt.

"Talking of elephants in the room, Snape, do you still believe that Muggleborns are scum and shouldn't be educated here?"

Bill spoke loudly enough for everyone at the Head Table to hear as well as several of the students sitting nearest us. Hermione looked at me from around Hagrid with wide shocked eyes. Slowly all the students in the room stopped talking to find out why it had gotten so quiet in the front of the room. Eventually silence hung in the air as Bill looked at me feigning patience with exaggeration while he waited for me to answer. I could feel my face turning pale while my cheek simultaneously reddened. I knew this question was going to be asked by someone in the school at some point, but not under these circumstances.

"William Weasley, this is hardly the time or the place," Minerva reprimanded. She through a stern look at the students who quickly turned back to their meals, but many of them continued darting glances at the table and nobody resumed talking.

"Isn't it though, Headmistress? It is something a lot of us have been wondering. Snape is a hero, sure. He was on our side all along, great. But how does he really feel. I believe we have a right to know." Bill was rewarded by a series of furtive nods from around the room.

"Do not answer him, Severus. I want the entire faculty in my office," McGonagall ordered. "Finish your meals and head to class. Your teachers will join you shortly."

Hermione was still watching me with apprehension. I through her a glance that hopefully said, "See? This is why I don't want to be in the public so much." The constant scrutiny was wearying.

Once we were all grumpily assembled in Minerva's office she wasted no time in beginning.

"Must I remind you all constantly that were are adults here to educate children, and are supposed to be examples of appropriate decorum?"

Professors Sprout and Vector both nodded in agreement. The rest of them just looked at me strangely and I knew what they wanted. They wanted me to answer Bill's question. For all the stories I told, and the explaining I had done, none of them would be satisfied with me until they heard what I really believed in. They would always doubt whether I was truly on Dumbledore's side or not and that did not make for a cohesive faculty unit.

"It is all right, Minerva. I will answer Bill's question."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Certainly, it is an easy question to answer. No, of course not. If Muggleborns were left to their own devices the magical world would hardly be a secret anymore. There would be chaos if people grew up with these powers unchecked." I had just opened Pandora's Box convinced I was about to regret it.

"So you acknowledge that Muggleborns didn't steal their powers?" Bill asked.

"Of course I do. Why would you suggest otherwise? Out of all the things I proclaimed over the years I don't recall that ever being part of it."

A faint flush crossed Bill's cheeks. I felt a tinge of satisfaction.

"We have all had months to ask Severus these questions." Minerva stood, and in her authority seemed to tower above us all. It always amazes how responsibility makes people seem so much bigger than they actually are. "If no one felt the need to do it before, I do not see the need to do it now."

"Here, here," Professor Vector replied. "If you don't mind I will join my students in their first period class."

Slowly the staff filed out of the office muttering amongst each other. Bill and I both received our fair share of reproachful glances. I was slowly beginning to seethe. I had woken in a pleasant mood, confident with the course of action I planned to take with my future, and even though Bill Weasley reinforced my decision, he damped my spirits nonetheless.

Bill was almost the last to leave.

"I am sorry Headmistress," Bill said looking at Minerva. "I let my temper get the better of me. "

"You should be apologizing to Severus," she replied.

I stiffened. I was just glad the whole affair was over almost as quickly as it began. "No apology is necessary."

I fixed Weasley with a glare that brooked no argument and he silently left the room. Hermione slipped out of the shadows and gave me a quick look that seemed to make the last half hour disappear. She was all I wanted. Just her.

"Are you all right?" Minerva asked.

I straightened my shoulders and clasped Hermione's hand quickly in mine. The most public display of affection I had ever done. It was not lost on Professor McGonagall.

"I am fine. "

"Maybe you should just write a book about your life. Then people could just turn to it rather than ask you all the personal questions you don't feel like answering over and over again," Hermione said jokingly. The idea was absurd and she knew it. I was not about to tell all my secrets to just anyone when I couldn't even tell my fellow colleagues that I was in love.

"That's not a bad idea. I daresay you could do yourself a better service than Rita Skeeter did me. If I was smart I would have written my own book before I died. I was nearly taken off my Chocolate Frog card based on her hearsay, and that would have been a fate worse than death," Dumbledore's cheerful voice sounded from his perch on the wall. Hermione and Minerva laughed at the portrait, but I was in no mood to see the humour in the situation.

"Oh, sod off," I finally snapped and left with the vision of Dumbledore's laughing eyes still visible in my mind.

The rest of the day was filled with the usual mutterings of students that can smell a scandal among their leadership. As usual, I was the topic of their discussion considering my very dramatic exit from the Great Hall at breakfast. Instead of returning at lunchtime I elected to visit the astronomy tower. A place I had been going to with more and more frequency. There were two fourth year Hufflepuffs locked in a tight embrace when I arrived on the tower. One snarl and a significant reduction in house points left me blessedly alone. I could see my house from my lofty perch and I allowed my mind to drift to the private and independent research I could do in my own lab. It was beginning to dawn on me how ridiculous owning a home I actually wanted was while I was still a teacher. The summer months were much too short for me to enjoy something like that. My old destroyed house on Spinner's End was serviceable enough, but I still hated it and used it as a crutch to keep me in Hogwarts for the many years that I might have been able to get away before Voldemort returned. If I believed I had nothing worthwhile outside of the school, then ergo, the school was the only thing worthwhile. After about a half hour the January chill turned into snow and I went back inside.

As soon as the first class was over I sent Hermione an owl letting her know that I had decided to go home for the night since I had no rounds and I invited her to join me. She replied saying she would love to but had a million papers to grade and that she had promised Harry she would have dinner with him. Unwilling to part with her for the evening I suggested that perhaps we could all have dinner together, somewhere away from the school, in London even. That was particularly out of character for me, but I wanted to go someplace nice with Hermione, and I wanted to do something nice for her too. I thought that being nice to Harry would be just the thing, and I was right. When I got yet another note just a few minutes later, I could hear the glee in her written words when she agreed. My motives weren't entirely selfless, while I wanted Hermione to myself, Potter was growing on me and I fancied a good Quidditch chat. I just hoped that Hermione's jubilation that I wanted to be with her and Potter would keep her from being completely bored to tears.

When Hermione and Harry finally arrived I was dressed in my nicest Muggle clothes which was a basic black suit with a white shirt. I really knew nothing of Muggle designers, but I assumed the one I had chosen was a big deal when Hermione eyed me appreciatively and murmured, "Armani, I didn't know..."

Harry shrugged and took off his school robes which revealed a suit similar to mine, although a dark gray with a green shirt that brought out his eyes. Since my eyes were dark to the point of being black I supposed my suit did the same for me. I never realized until that moment that I even paid attention to those kinds of things. I think what was really happening was that I was finally learning how to see and appreciate the beauty in people, and the effort they went through to be pleasing. It was a bit hypocritical of me since I transformed myself when I awoke from my coma by fixing my teeth and changing my hairstyle, but I had done it for Hermione, so that we wouldn't look like beauty and the beast standing next to each other. I finally imagined how my changed appearance might have contributed to people's more positive evaluation of me.

Hermione reached up to kiss me on the cheek before taking off her own robe revealing a very tasteful red dress. It wasn't tight or clingy, but it fitted her top well and flowed at the bottom. She wrapped something around her shoulders, a pashmina, I was later informed when I wanted to use it to tie her hands to the bedpost, and I loved every square inch of it. I was beginning to find a newfound love for everything outside of Hogwarts, its uniforms, and all the suffocating people inside the building.

A little while later Hermione, Harry, and I were strolling together down Charing Cross Road heading towards Kettners, a posh Muggle restaurant that Hermione chose.

"Why do you want to go somewhere so posh, Hermione?" Harry asked as we arrived in front of the white brick building after turning onto Romilly Street. Through the open door you could see smartly dressed waiters rushing about finishing up orders for the pre-theatre crowd. "I don't even know how to order rich food, let alone how to eat it. You know snails and things."

"They serve pizza and burgers here. It is really basic, just a fancier setting. I always thought the decorations were kind of old and tatty, but my parents used to bring me here after we went to theatre," Hermione trailed off momentarily and then spoke again with more strength in her voice. "I quite like it."

Once we were inside and seated I could see why Hermione would choose the place for us. As a unit we blended well with the crowd. Nobody would suspect something sinister of a forty year old man out on the town with two very young adults. Knowing that a wizard's forty looks much younger than a Muggle's forty was also some comfort. I thought the place was horribly tacky and the decorations old and over the top, but Hermione was right, the menu did appeal to Harry. It made perfect sense that a couple would bring their child here, adult ambiance with kid friendly fare. I could see nostalgia in Hermione's eyes as she took a brief survey of the place as we were led to a private table. I wished there was something I could do to ease the pain of losing her parents. Her new brother would have been born already and that small addition to their family would make it even more difficult to figure out a way to restore their memories without ruining their new lives. For Hermione though, I would find a way. It would take considerable research on my part. I had the advantage of being able to cavort inside people's minds, but tampering with the contents was never my pleasure or forte.

Apparently Harry had similar thoughts. Shortly after receiving our drinks Hermione excused herself to the restroom.

"She seems so sad. I don't know why she wanted to come here if it was just going to remind her of her parents," he said.

"Perhaps that is why she wanted come here, to be reminded."

Harry shrugged. "I guess. It is like her. She did it a lot when we were on the run looking for Horcruxes. She brought is to Charing Cross Road first thing, and then later to the Forest of Dean where you put the sword, and a couple of other places. She said they were all places her parents brought her to."

I wasn't keen to admit to Harry how little I actually knew of their time on the run. I knew some big important details of course, and Hermione had mentioned other things in passing, but I didn't know what the day to day was like for them. Where they always stayed, what they ate, how they survived. All of a sudden I wanted to know everything from how they obtained food to what spells they used to hide their location.

"I didn't know that," I finally admitted.

"Not surprised. Sometimes it is hard to get her to talk about that stuff. She says I am the one who likes to brood, not her. I would like to get her parents back for her though, oh, here she comes."

Harry took a quick but large drink of his ale and then launched into a detailed description of the Chudley Cannons new roster for the year and an elaborate explanation as to why their line-up was going to be disadvantageous to the team when they played more established teams like the Wimbourne Wasps. I was quite interested in what he had to say, but changed the subject soon because Hermione, while looking significantly more cheered since returning from the ladies' was beginning to look bored. I reached over and took her hand on the table and she gratefully squeezed my fingers. A shadow passed over Harry's face. I pulled Hermione's hand off the table and continued to hold it though.

"What, Harry?" Hermione asked, clearly seeing the look on his face as well. "You'll have to get used to seeing us together if you want to hang around with us."

Harry looked as if he was going to start sulking, but then rolled back his shoulders defiantly. "Well, if you must know, it is kind of sickening to see you two together in that way."

Hermione opened her mouth to retort, but Harry raised a palm to stop her. "However," he said with emphasis, "I am getting used to it. I just want you to be happy, Hermione."

"I am, Harry. Stop worrying."

Nobody said anything for a few moments. I could see the unspoken conversation they were having with their eyes though, and after awhile Harry nodded as if satisfied. I wondered if they had always been able to communicate that way or if it was something they learned to do while they were on the run. I was beginning to wish that I had that with Hermione as well when she met my eyes. Without actually using Legilimency I could literally hear her telling me she knew what I was thinking and I realized that we were similarly connected. I felt a rush of relief and warmth at the idea that I was as close as her childhood friend. As close as someone who had literally been through everything with her.

Harry sniffed and down the rest of his beer. He flagged the bartender for another, but I nodded no and the bartender complied. It was already Harry's third and I could tell by the flush in his cheeks that I would not be able to return him to the school as sound as when he left if I let him have another. And the thought of him staying at my house in Hogsmeade was particularly undesirable considering what I had planned for Hermione. I squeezed her leg high on the thigh hoping she would get the hint.

Hermione took a sharp breath and then smiled at Harry. "Well, it's been fun, but you should probably get back to the castle before too long or someone might worry."

"Aren't you coming back with me?" he asked.

Hermione glanced at me and then back at Harry.

"Gross," he said.

I couldn't help but smirk. If anyone else had said it, I would see their point, a much older, slightly unattractive man with a younger, considerably more attractive woman would seem rather pungent to the normal observer, but consternating Harry just made me feel good inside.

We returned to my house where I agreed to let Harry use the floo into my office so that he could put on his invisibility cloak and sneak back to his dorms hopefully undetected. Against my will I had to accompany him in order to let down and replace the wards surrounding the door leading out of my office. Hermione assured me she would be waiting so I made Harry get in the fireplace with me in order to make the trip even quicker. When we got there however, Winky was waiting on my office desk chair. She jumped with a small shriek as I stepped out of the fireplace first.

"Professor, sir!" she squeaked as she twisted her fingers hard inside her stained dress. "Headmistress asks me to wait here for you so I can deliver a message."

"What is it then?" I asked not bothering to stop her from twisting her fingers. Hermione would have been angry, but I knew enough about house elves to let them be when they were clearly agitated as Winky was.

"The Headmistress wants you to go to the Hospital Wing," she said finally letting go of her hand. "As soon I see you she says for you to go."

"Thank you, Winky. Go to Headmistress McGonagall and tell her I will be right there," I said. She made an unintelligible noise and disappeared with a pop.

"What do you suppose is going on?" Harry asked.

"I don't know, but I should hurry." I was annoyed that my evening with Hermione was about to be interrupted. Whoever was in the hospital wing was going to be in for an extended stay once I got my hands on them. "This better be good though."

"Do you want me to go back and get Hermione?"

"No!" I said more vehemently than I intended. I didn't want Harry to walk in on whatever Hermione had in store for me. "Just get in your cloak and get back to your dorm, Potter."

After he was gone I stepped back into the fireplace to get Hermione. She was reclining on the couch with her shirt unbuttoned far enough to reveal a generous amount of cleavage, and she had cocked up one leg just enough to show a little bit of her panties. Her hair was loose and wild falling around her shoulders. She smiled seductively. To me, Hermione's sexiness was usually derived from her intelligence and her wholesome good looks, but this vixen on my couch had my pants tightening uncomfortably and I nearly forgot what I was supposed to be doing.

Her expression changed when she saw my face. She put her leg down and sat up. "Did I do something wrong? You look angry."

"Believe me, I am not angry at you," I explained what was going on back at the school and she made a move to put her clothes back together to come with me.

"Not quite yet," I said, my voice cracking with desire. I leaned down and brushed my lips and the tip of my tongue across her exposed cleavage, up her throat and finally to her lips where I kissed her deeply.

She hummed against me and I had to dig deep inside myself to find the strength to push her away.

"You are mean," she stated simply as she grabbed her robes and stepped into the fireplace.

I could feel myself hot and large and uncomfortable as I rubbed against my trousers. "You have no idea."

Neither of us said anything until we were nearing the hospital wing.

"Let me know what's going on as soon as you can," she said before disappearing to her rooms.

By the time I got to the hospital wing my mood was surly enough to erase any evidence my arousal. Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey were waiting for me and both stood to greet me when I stepped inside.

"I do apologize for interrupting your evening, Severus, but this could not wait," Minerva said, a look of sorrow on her face.

I was immediately concerned. "What is it?"

"It's Draco, he's been attacked."


	31. Tomorrow, Tomorrow, Tomorrow

Disclaimer: I am not JKR

Note: this is a reposting. I made a grievous error and corrected it. If you have read this chapter already, it was not Zabini, Crabbe, and Bulstrode, but some other erstwhile Slytherins that I conveniently left in the seventh year. Sorry for the stupid mistake.

Stealing From Thieves

Chapter 31

To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow

Rather than wait for Minerva and Poppy to give me an explanation I went directly to the partitioned off area where I could see a patch of Draco's blonde head through a crack in the curtain. He was lying so still I felt my heart plummet with fear that he was dead. When I got closer though, I could see that he was breathing softly and that he wasn't even asleep. He was staring fixedly at some spot on the ceiling, not shifting his eyes even a fraction of an inch. I looked at the two women who had followed me, but neither said anything at first. I looked at Draco one last time finally noticing the remains of mostly healed cuts on his face, and the tight pink skin that looked like the remains of fresh burns on his hands. On the chair next to his bed, torn and dirty clothes were folded in a neat pile.

"Perhaps you should come with us, Severus," Minerva said gently, glancing with concern at Draco's still unblinking face.

"He is asleep," Poppy said as we settled into her office with the door ajar. "He was so agitated after I healed his wounds I had to do something to settle him down. His mother informed me that he'd taken to sleeping with his eyes open while You-Know-Who was living in their house."

Of course he had. "You spoke with Narcissa?"

Minerva nodded. "I went to her to tell her what happened. She has the right to determine if Draco should remain here or not."

"What exactly did happen?"

"We don't know all of the particulars, only what Denis Creevey and Ginny Weasley have told us. They were the ones who found him. Draco isn't saying anything."

I glared at Minerva to continue to the point.

"Ginny and Denis were returning to the Gryffindor common room after the library closed and found Draco planted outside the Gryffindor door, suffering from several hexes at once, some silly and mundane, while others were quite severe, but suffering them all at once was quite dangerous," Poppy explained.

Before I asked for clarification on what kinds of curses were used I fished around in Poppy's small cabinet by her desk for something strong. Anger was making my head swim. I knew who was behind all this; I just wanted to know why they would never learn.

"There was evidence that the Cruciatus Curse was used, and the Imperius Curse, but it was poorly done and easy to reverse. Draco was stunned when he was found. It took a moment to recognize him because he had been hit with the bat bogey hex, furnunculus, and stinging hexes to the face. He had been dressed in Gryffindor robes, and when he was revived he kept repeating that he was a Gryffindor and forgot his password, and could somebody please let him into the house he _actually_ belonged in."

I didn't know what made my rage deepen the most, the fact that the culprits resorted to childhood hexes to finish him off, or that they would assume that being a Slytherin would actually seem superior than any other house in light of the past year.

"Do you know who?" I demanded.

Minerva shook her head. "He won't say anything. As a precaution every Slytherin is accounted for and being held in their common room by Professor Vector and Bill Weasley. So far, no student has come forth voluntarily. We conducted Priori Incantatem on all the wands belonging to the Slytherins, but it seems they used Draco's own wand against him."

I nodded and stood up. I was picturing Zabini and Bulstrode holding him by the arms while Parkinson squealed in that mousy way of hers as she fired stupid spell after stupid spell at him. Damn the Carrows and their singular ability to teach people how to torture and nothing else, like control or tact.

"Severus," Minerva said laying a hand on mine before I could walk out, "his mother wants to speak with you as soon as possible. And please be careful. Don't punish them all."

I was shaking with rage as I exited the hospital wing, though I fought to keep my face calm. It took an effort to unclench my fists, and my fingers were stiff from how tightly I had them curled against my palm. I was sick to death of the run off from the war. All the petty squabbles and grievances that one faction had against another was a constant agitation, but this signified something more. Slytherins never turned on each other. At least not in such an obvious manner. It was in bad form and bad taste. The only Slytherin who was still behaving like one was Draco, who in usual Slytherin style refused to rat out his peers. Whether he did it out of embarrassment, fear, or oftentimes useless Slytherin honor and pride was unclear. It made me want to leave the school more than ever. I should have risen to the occasion, realized my students needed me, but I just wanted to leave.

I wanted to storm directly to the Slytherin common room as Minerva expected I would, but instead I made a slight detour to Hermione's rooms. When she opened the door, her face awash with concern, I was so glad to see her that my knees buckled a little and I had to lean against the door frame. It was such an immense comfort to have someone whose very presence could ease the rage growing inside me.

"Severus!" she exclaimed grabbing my arm.

I stood upright and regained my composure. "May I come in?"

"Of course."

Hermione stood back as I entered her rooms. She had changed into jeans and a sweater, but she had shoes on as if she was ready to leave at a moment's notice.

"Would you like some tea? Or perhaps something stronger? What's going on? Is everyone all right?"

I declined the drinks and put a finger over her lips or the questions would have kept coming. She smiled a little and kissed it before I drew it away.

"It's Draco. He is all right, but I don't know all the details because he isn't speaking." I proceeded to tell Hermione all I did know and the momentary relief I felt at seeing her began to evaporate with the telling. By the time I was through I was ready to punish every Slytherin and their fool fathers again.

"How are you going to force the Slytherins to tell?" Hermione asked. "You know they won't talk, they don't really trust you anymore, and Veritaserum is illegal to use on a student without Ministry approval. Although, you might be able to get it for this."

Of course I already knew those things and I had thought about them. I had another idea.

"Legilimency."

Hermione pursed her lips in a very Minerva-like way. "I don't know if I approve. It's not illegal but it seems unfair."

"Unfair?" I scoffed. "What about this whole situation if fair? Is anything ever really fair? I simply scan the room lightly so no one notices. The innocent and the guilty will be easy to separate without even having to really look. The moment I walk in the room every single person in there will be thinking about what happened to Draco. I will be able to eliminate the students who were not involved and hone in on the ones I want. Every student will get detention."

"And the guilty?"

"Expulsion."

"I thought so," Hermione said. "I hoped so. Is there anything I can do?"

I started to shake my head, but then changed my mind. "Yes, love, there is. Go see Draco. Find out what he will tell you, he seems to fancy you and boys always tell girls they like more than they intend."

Hermione was blushing and smiling. If that was her reaction to hearing that Draco fancied her then perhaps she was less than truthful about wanting only me.

"What?" I snarled.

Her expression didn't change. She came up to me and took my hands. "You called me love. You never use terms of endearment."

I wasn't the type to do so and the momentary jealous flare up dissolved immediately. I thought back to what I just said to her and realized I had. I pulled into my arms and kissed the top of her head.

"You are my love, but I must go now. I have Slytherins to punish and I have left them waiting long enough."

Hermione bit her lip apprehensively, but allowed me to leave without any warnings of being too harsh on the poor misguided youth. Guidance was exactly what those students needed. I had no intentions of hurting them, only identifying them. And then Minerva would have the happy pleasure of expelling them.

When I entered the Slytherin common room Bill Weasley and Vector both jumped to their feet with barely disguised relief. The Slytherins were scattered about the room, some playing games, some doing school work, others talking or sleeping and they all gasped and stopped what they were doing when they heard me enter, except for a small group of four. Parkinson, Vassey, Warrington, and Urquhart just as I expected. The children of Death Eaters and Death Eater supporters, and the only other seventh years left in the house. I did not even need Legilimency. They wanted to be identified, it was clear by their pointed refusal to acknowledge that I'd ever entered the room. For good measure I approached the group and did a quick glance into Parkinson's mind. She'd always been easiest to penetrate when the Carrows were trying to teach her to block her mind. It was clear she'd failed to learn anything at all. I could feel her struggle against me but was rewarded anyway with a brief but sufficient view of Draco lying on the floor while Warrington cursed him and the other three laughed and encouraged him. The only odd thing was that I thought she was Draco's off and on girlfriend.

"No loyalty amongst friends, I see," I said looking at Warrington who blushed in a most uncouth way. "Come with me."

"I will go nowhere with you, traitor," Parkinson said. "Or, are you a traitor? You never really can tell sometimes. If not, I would very much like to be there when you show that Mudblood Hermione Granger your true intentions just as you did Dumbledore."

I heard gasps around me, but none were as loud as the clacking sound my teeth made as I clenched my jaws together. Bill Weasley was beside me in an instant with his wand out, but it was clear he was not sure who he wanted to point it at, me or the students. With the help of the other professors we got the four guilty moved to McGonagall's office where they awaited their fate. None had spoken a single word to me, and I to them. We would have to wait for an Auror from the Ministry to come and extract a confession from them, since I unfortunately, was forbidden to use Veritaserum myself. In the meantime I went to see Narcissa.

Narcissa looked haggard and had clearly been weeping shortly before I arrived. Her normally slender frame looked emaciated and the large sea green chair she was sitting in made her look almost childlike.

"Thank you for coming, Severus." Narcissa's voice betrayed her physical appearance and was as brisk and authoritative as I ever heard it. She eerily reminded me of Voldemort when he was still getting used to his new, somewhat ill formed body, but his mind and his voice were as sharp as ever. Narcissa went through the social niceties of offering me drinks and food which I declined. I was in a hurry.

"I heard about the dreadful things that happened to my son this evening. I can only say I am surprised it took this long for someone to attack him."

I remained silent. The fire of fierce protection of a loved one flashed through her eyes, and I could only imagine how painful house arrest was on her at that moment. I knew she would love nothing better than to whisk Draco away from the school herself. It was at that moment that I realized why she wanted to see me.

"Narcissa, I think you should let Draco decide if he wants to leave or not," I said.

She sniffed and averted her eyes for a moment. "I can provide excellent tutors for him at home. You know that his education will be secured here as well as at that castle."

"He is of age. It is his choice where he chooses to finish school. The perpetrators will be expelled."

"There will be others!" she said slapping the arm of her chair for emphasis. "You know as well as I do that there will be more and more and more! With Lucius in prison we will never regain our honor. My only protection is the Ministry guards who keep me under house arrest. I cannot protect Draco from here."

She looked weakened after her tirade. Narcissa withdrew a handkerchief from a pocket and carefully dabbed at her nose and eyes.

"Are you ill?" I asked. "Is there another reason you want Draco home?"

She refused to meet my eyes. I stood up and moved to her chair where I knelt down and reached for one of her hands. It was cold and clammy, and the skin was so pale I could clearly see the outlines of the smallest arteries and veins beneath her skin.

"Narcissa, I have always been your friend. I betrayed Voldemort, but I never betrayed you. Let me help you now, when I am free to do so," I said imploringly.

When Narcissa finally turned to look at me there were tears filling the corners her eyes, but she resolutely refused to blink lest they should fall. She gripped my hand tightly with her other hand. "I am dying of loneliness and heartbreak, Severus. Whatever other things that plague my body is meaningless. I need my son, and I want my husband back."

Her resolve finally broken, Narcissa leant forward onto me and wept.

I returned to the castle emotionally and physically drained. In the morning I planned to visit the Ministry to arrange a visit to Azkaban to see Lucius Malfoy and I desperately needed at least a few hours sleep, but I planned to stop off and see how Hermione fared with Draco first. However, when I got to the hospital wing to check on Draco on my way to Hermione's room, I saw that she was there still. Draco was sitting up in bed with his back to me facing Hermione. They were laughing and both held glasses clinking with ice cubes. On the table next to the bed was a bottle of bourbon with most of the contents gone. In fact, I think the bourbon was mine. Hermione saw me coming over Draco's shoulder and with the tiniest shake of her head signaled me to stop. I got the point and turned around to go back to my room. Hermione was right. Whatever I was going to say to Draco could wait until the next day, and whatever she found out from him could wait too.

A/N: Short chapter, but I thought you all deserved an update! Thanks to all of you who have been keeping with this story even though my updates have been long coming. I have not given up on this fic, there is still a lot more to come.


	32. Come Away To Prison

Author's Note: I am not JKR. I did not create this. I am not even one iota as creative.

Chapter 32

"Come, let's away to prison;  
We two alone will sing like birds I' th' cage."

Azkaban prison is a towering structure in the cold north Atlantic that is forever under siege from magically maintained frothing whitecap waves. Naturally the phenomenon was put in place to discourage escapees from finding the strength within to swim the nineteen miles to the nearest shore. The waves apparently do not discourage dogs, but even I would hesitate before diving in that wreck without a wand for protection. The final result of the splashing waves is that one cannot stand in the entry of the prison and get prodded with a Probity Probe and still remain dry. Naturally, the Ministry would insist that their Portkey deposit visitors outside the prison so that an errant prisoner on the inside would not find their hands on one, but it seemed an awful inconvenience just to see Lucius Malfoy, of whom I still had reservations about seeing.

The inside of the fortress was as cold as the inside and the incompetent guard demanded that I surrender my wand before I was afforded the opportunity to dry off. I was led through an ancient and cumbersome door and into a room where apart from the lone barred slits of windows high in the walls, there was only one gas lamp hovering above a thick wooden table. Lucius Malfoy sat at the table waiting. His hair was ragged and tinged green from the saltwater spray that could be felt through every orifice of the building. His normally crystal grey eyes were smoky and slightly withdrawn. He was as thin and unkempt looking as his wife, he was pitiful, and if he had not been my friend, I would have abandoned all hope of reaching him. His pinched expression may have seemed a little withdrawn, but he was sad too. What I needed from him was not sadness, however, I needed remorse.

When his eyes did focus on me they clouded over with disappointment momentarily before returning to their fogged glass original state. His skin was dry and his lips were cracked with dryness. He sniffled and as elegantly as possible used the torn edges of his sleeve to wipe his nose.

I licked my own lips before speaking and grimaced at the taste of brine drying on my skin. As if being surrounded by Dementors on an island prison was not bad enough, they were tortured constantly with the spraying barrage of cold air and seawater at every moment of the day. Even as I entered the room a particularly large crash of ocean water sent a visible mist of spray through the window that eventually settled around us like film.

"Lucius," I said intending to address him as I would any other day, but the name came out of my mouth with an unmistakable note of disdain. I could not reconcile my memories of a towering, ambitious, and alluring man with the wretched person before me.

"How the mighty have fallen," Lucius croaked his voice hoarse from months of disuse.

I pulled out the chair before him and sat down. The guard hovered near the entrance.

"You have a long way to fall," I commented thinking of his fortune and the love of his family that were in jeopardy.

Lucius' eyes cleared slightly and he broke into a mocking grin. "You thought I was talking about me?"

"Seeing as how I am the one of us that can freely walk out of this place, I would safely assume you were not."

"You don't change, Severus," Lucius said thickly, the swagger fading from his face. "Whose side are you on now, Snape? The Ministry's? You have an amazing knack for saving your own skin."

"I am not here to discuss my loyalties." I sat down so I could see him levelly.

"Then why are you here? To gloat?" Lucius demanded, his face contorting into an uncharacteristic ugly mask of anger and defeat. Combined with the lank hair, filth, and other physical detritus of being in prison the effect was quite grotesque.

I did my best not to react. Surprisingly I did not want to recoil, only to reach out. Hermione was truly rubbing off on me, or maybe there was a part of me that always wanted to help people. I really don't know, and it didn't matter then and it doesn't matter now.

"Narcissa is ill, Lucius," I began. I figured straightforward was best. I told Lucius about everything. My coming to after the snake bite, not about Hermione or my otherworldly experience, but about everything that happened to Draco and the Death Eaters we attacked over the holidays. His face remained mostly impassive until I finished.

"Why do you tell me this?" he asked. "Why do you tell me, when my own son has not come to see me? My own son hates me!" He slapped the table spreading a fine spray of sea water that had collected there into the air.

"Your family loves you," I replied barely above a whisper.

Lucius' eyes rolled maniacally in his head. "Love? Love is a thief, Severus. It steals from you your will and your reason. It is nothing but a thief! What do you know of love for anyone besides yourself?"

I could literally feel my hackles rising and my eyes hardening in response. I wanted to reach across the table and shake him until his the brittle bones in his neck snapped.

He calmed slightly. "Are the rumors true? Did you claim to use your boyhood love of Lily Potter to your advantage? Do you still love her?"

His tone was nasty and not worth a response.

"What did she take with her when she left, Severus? What part of you went away?"

The question was whispered. His tone was completely different than before. When I did not answer he repeated himself. "What did she take?"

When I still said nothing his demeanor changed again. "She took nothing because it was a lie. It was a convenient way of saving your own skin. Fabricating a story about being on Dumbledore's side because you still loved Lily Potter. You are always thinking. You are so clever, Severus."

My anger finally got the best of me. "I am not here to discuss me. I am here to speak with you about clemency, or at the very minimum getting enough leniencies on your sentence to reduce your remaining time to house arrest."

He regarded me closely.

"Are you supposed to be my legal counsel?" he asked sarcastically. "Why on earth should I trust you when you fooled us all?"

"Because I fooled you all, you imbecile," I snapped back, my patience finally at an end. "I killed Albus Dumbledore yet I am an the one who still has my old job, I am the one regarded as something of a dark hero, it is I that can stand up and walk out while you rot here for the rest of your miserable life. I can walk out of here and tell your wife and son who love you and need you that you no longer care for them and move on with my deceitful life. It makes no difference to me."

I rose and lifted a hand to summon the guard to let me out.

"Wait, no!" he cried lifting a craggy hand towards me. "I am not myself. This place it makes you insane. You must help me. I cannot take the Dementors anymore. Please stay."

Of course he could not remember happiness from love. It was not what love took from him that was hurting him; it was what the Dementors took instead. All the good feelings associated with it. It was difficult to predict if Lucius was going to be worth saving, but it would not even be worth trying if I had to save him while he was still inside the prison walls. I thought of Narcissa and Draco, and the family I hoped to have someday and sat back down.

"I am prepared to go to the Ministry and request a retrial for you. You are in prison for your involvement with the Death Eaters, for escaping Azkaban when Voldemort took over the prison, and for housing a known criminal. However, if we can prove that you were actually a prisoner in your own home while Voldemort was there we will be able to get that part of your sentence withdrawn. We will also be able to prove that you did not commit any other crimes since your arrest at the Department of Mysteries because of Voldemort's control over you and your home. I reviewed the records from your earlier sentencing and if we have to, we can declare a mistrial because you were not sentenced by the entire Wizengamot. War time trial rules are different than peace time rules, but that does not mean a case or two was seen unfairly. You will not be able to get away with saying you were under the Imperius Curse again, but I think your social status, the money you have donated, and your guarantee that you were acting under duress from the Department of Mysteries forward should help you."

Lucius sat in thought for a few moments after my speech.

"And if you don't succeed?" he asked, although I am sure he already knew the answer.

"Then you will stay here. I will bring Draco to you and I assure you that I will bring you news of Narcissa," I said. "But Lucius, I am hoping this will not even make it to a retrial. Or if it does, it will be for show. I think if we go to the Minister with a belated plea bargain, for a lack of better words, I can at least get you out of Azkaban, but you may have to give up a lot. At least for awhile."

"Why are you helping me?"

"You know why." I said.

Lucius shook his head. "No, Severus, that's not good enough. You have to give me some truth since it seems there is something you are not telling me. Is it true? Did you love Lily?"

"I did." I admitted. Although that was not the information I was holding back.

"Did?" he said considering my answering carefully.

I stood up to leave once again. "Love only steals something from you, Lucius, when you lose it, or if it is not reciprocated. Someone wise once told me the robbed man who smiles steals something from the thief. If your wife and son stole your dignity and your reason because you loved them, then accept their love and take something back."

"You _are _different now," he said with a slight air of awe that someone could change so completely. Or in my case be the person I always was but not allowed to show it.

I shook my head. "No, this is who I have always been. I will return in a week with more news."

I was two steps from the door and I could feel the Dementor coming for Lucius before I could see it when he spoke again.

"What might I have to give up, Severus? My business? My money?"

I turned slowly and regarded him before answering. "Your magic."

Lucius paled and it was not because of the Dementor that took him away.

Back at Hogwarts I found Hermione in the hospital wing with Draco. Even though it was only the previous night it felt like a hundred years since I had enjoyed a nice dinner with Hermione and Potter and had looked forward to a night of making love by the fire. That familiar and ugly stab of jealousy swept through me as I saw them laughing together as I walked in.

"Severus!" Hermione exclaimed when she saw me. "Draco and I were just talking about the day I slapped him."

"She has a good arm, I can still feel the sting," Draco joked. He made no notice of Hermione's use of my first name and he seemed more like his old self than I had seen for a very long time.

"You deserved it I have no doubt."

"I did." Draco looked at Hermione and then at me.

Hermione stood up quickly. "I should probably go. I am so glad you are feeling better, Draco. Although I guess it was technically my fault you were a little worse for the wear."

Hermione tipped her hand at her mouth in that universal gesture of having a drink and they both laughed again. The sting of jealousy pulsed through me again until I felt Hermione's warm hand close around mine. She stood on her toes and kissed me so quickly and softly that I did not have time to react or pull away.

"He knows," she whispered quietly in my ear and then in a normal voice, "I will see you later."

When Hermione was gone I took her vacated seat.

"Draco,"

"Severus," we both spoke at once. I nodded for him to go first.

He swallowed thickly and then began again. "Severus, I have been a prat. I know it. I should have taken your help from the beginning. I feel like so much of this is my fault for being stubborn and scared."

"It's not," I said.

He nodded. "I know. Granger has a strange way of helping people see reason."

"That she does." I noticed the bottle of liquor on the nightstand and poured myself a little of what was left. After my trip to Azkaban I needed it. "Hair of the dog?" I offered.

Draco shook his head and laughed again. "Hermione Granger of all people. I should have seen it coming; you two are very much alike. I would say it is gross if I had not already begun to discover her charms myself."

"I thank you for your maturity and your restraint," I said sarcastically.

He lifted an eyebrow in a gesture very much like my own. "Jealous? You have nothing to worry about. She is like a wolf, a leader, strong, and fiercely loyal, and we both know wolves only mate for life."

"I do thank you for that," I replied with a slight incline of my head.

Draco looked away from me and stared out the window across from his bed. It was growing dark outside and the thestrals could be seen in the lowering sun rising above the trees to snatch the rare winter bird out of the air.

"I have never once considered your happiness, or anyone else's but mine and mother's. If I can even say I really thought about hers. I was raised to be so spoiled and selfish. Should I be angry with my parents for that?"

The question was clearly rhetorical so I remained quiet. I did not want to say or do anything that would disturb this newly contemplative Draco. I rather liked him.

"Hermione said you were at Azkaban to see my father."

"I was."

Draco turned sad, old eyes on my. The war had made all the young students age beyond their years. On both sides.

"I know he is angry with me for not coming to see him," he said.

"Hurt, not angry," I replied.

He lay heavily back into his pillow. "That's worse."

"It is easier to forgive people for the big things they do wrong to you than the little ones, Draco. You will both survive this," I offered as comfort.

"Did you see my mother?" he asked. "She is ill. I should be home taking care of her, but I have been too cowardly to face her like that."

I put my hand on his shoulder. "I do not think leaving here to take care of her will be as big of a sacrifice as you may think."

"But if I leave now everyone will think it is because I was attacked and chickened out of staying," he said sitting up again and shrugging my hand off his shoulder. "I am a coward if I leave and a coward if I stay."

"I'm leaving," I said.

"What?"

"This is my last year at this school and it is because I do not want to face another person here if I can help it," I said. "Does that make me cowardly because I want to live my life in peace without being judged? I want to have my own private lab and business, and I want to have my own home, and I want to live with the woman I love without every eye on me judging me. Without parents fighting the school governors for keeping me here when I am an ex-Death-Eater and I have formed a relationship with a student."

"No, Severus," Draco replied. "I do understand, and like I said before, I never considered your happiness before and I am happy to hear that for once you are, but I thought you loved it here."

"I did, or I do, but circumstances change. People change. I want to get out while I am ahead. Helping your father is not exactly going to help my situation either, Draco. I hate gossip, Draco, especially when I am the subject of it. I do not want to stay and listen to it, but if I wanted to stay and teach more than I hated gossip, I would. It is just time for me to move on. I think it is time for you to as well. You have a family to mend, and I have one to build."

Draco's grey eyes darkened as they filled with tears. I had seen him cry many times over the years for several reasons, but these were the first mature tears I had ever seen fall from his eyes.

"I do want my mother," he admitted in a shaky voice.

I reached out for his hand and this time he did not pull away. "Then go to her."

We sat in silence for a moment while we both regained our composure. After a few minutes Draco spoke again.

"I still can't believe it. It is just mind boggling," he said.

"What is?" I asked.

"You and Granger, I mean, really? That's not on," he said laughing.

I was about to laugh too except for the gasp we both heard at Draco's last comment. Poppy Pomfrey had heard it and was staring me down with distinct disapproval.

"Severus Snape! I hope this-"

"Poppy! Whatever you are about to say, take it to Minerva, I am not defending myself to you or anyone," I retorted interrupting what was sure to be a painfully long admonishment for my disgusting behavior. With that I bid Draco farewell and left the hospital wing.

A few minutes later I was in Hermione's room wrapped up in her arms and kissing her like it would be the last time.

"I love you," I said. "I really truly care for you."

Her smile was magic by itself. "I know you do. I love you too."

"I want a family with you, Hermione. I want you to be my wife." The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them. I needed her to know how committed I was to her before the proverbial shit hit the fan. Before my re-involvement with the Malfoys became public and before Poppy Pomfrey started wagging her tongue.

"Severus!" Hermione exclaimed with surprise. "I don't, I mean, I am stunned."

It was not the rushing yes with kisses and tears that I would have expected at a more appropriate proposal but was still a little hurt, although I could hardly blame her, I did blindside her, and myself, after all.

"Why the urgency all of a sudden?" she asked a note of suspicion in her voice. I had gone and made a complete prat of myself and ruined what was supposed to be one of the most romantic moments of her life.

"Do you not want the same things?" I asked my voice cracking embarrassingly.

"I didn't say that," she said quickly taking my hands. "I just feel like there is more behind you proposal than just for your love for me."

"That is exactly why I love you," I replied relieved. "Only you have the ability to see through me. I am going to help Lucius Malfoy get out of prison and I plan on remaining his friend after."

Hermione considered my words. Her grip on my hands slackened, but she did not let go which I saw as a good sign.

"Did you think that I would be angry? Did you want to force me into a commitment before I had a chance to react to that and leave you over it?" she asked stunned.

That was exactly what I had done. I could not even look her in the eye. I tried to pull away, but she held fast to my hands.

"Well?" she demanded.

"Yes, but I reacted and spoke what was on my mind without thinking. Only you have that affect on me," I said pleading with my eyes for forgiveness. She surprised me by leaning forward and kissing me full and deep on the mouth.

"I am distinctly proud of that ability," she said after.

"You can forgive me?" I asked.

She shrugged. "There really is nothing to forgive. You do not make commitments or comments lightly and for the words to have even come out of your mouth, I know you meant them. Motive or not."

"I do not have a motive, just poor timing. I spoiled something that was supposed to be romantic," I said.

"I am not romantic. If I was I would be bawling my eyes out because you dragged Lucius Malfoy into our proposal, which is a fortuitous segue into something I want to tell you. Of course you are going to help the Malfoy's, and I want you to. I just do not want there to be any part of our lives that we cannot share. If they do not learn to accept me, that will be a problem. I know Draco will help, but you know what I mean," she said and took a deep breath. "That being said, I have decided to leave the school after this year also."

It was my turn to be stunned. "Hermione, please do not do it because I am."

"I'm not. I want to continue my education at a magical and a Muggle university. Teaching is okay, but I think I want to be more active elsewhere. I want to renew my campaign to help those less fortunate," she said. Her eyes began to light up and I could feel the sermon on Elfish welfare bubbling up her throat. I closed her mouth with my lips and rested my hand lightly on her throat as if to still the words forming there.

"Whatever you want, Hermione. Anything for you," I kissed her again as my hands traveled across her body. "You never did say whether you wanted to marry me or not."

Hermione's back arched as my fingers found their way under her shirt and I massaged her breasts while I sucked on her earlobe.

"I do," she breathed. "Yes, Severus, yes."

Her words had me hardening faster than her delicious body and the danger of making love in her rooms while students were out in the halls heading to dinner turned me on even more. I completely forgot about Poppy as Hermione undid my pants and freed me into her soft and warm hand. I forgot everything but her as we moved together in that sweetest of acts I would never be able to get enough of.

A/N: Okay, really short super delayed chapter with a little lime in it. I think you all deserve some real lemons just for sticking with me so I have something planned. Due to the delays in the chapters I have made some HUGE mistakes! I had some lovely reviewers who pointed them out to me very kindly and I really appreciate it. I have gone back and edited some of the offending chapters. It is mainly a mistake I made with some certain Slytherin students. Nobody that got expelled in the beginning of the story was involved in the attack on Draco. That was my bad. I was very seriously considering scrapping this story, going back and rereading and rewriting and finishing it later, but because I have so many loyal readers who have stuck with me I decided not to do that. I do appreciate your reviews very much and I especially appreciate those of you who have helped me keep this consistent. That being said, I do still want to rewrite and repost as an edited version, but this time with a beta, and all at once. So I will finish the story for those of you who want more chapters now, but I will also be reposting it completely as an edited and revised version for those of you who like my story, but not my sloppy throw up the chapters kind of style. Thanks so much for reading and giving me your reviews, they really are love! Anyone who is interested in perhaps being my beta please let me know. I know I have had a few offers for betas already, but I need to know who is still interested and has the time. Thanks for all your love and support!


	33. Behind Every Cloud

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Stealing From Thieves

Behind Every Cloud is Another Cloud

When I was a kid my mother had stopped using magic because my Muggle father found her abilities terrifying and repulsive. Now that I understand a little bit more of love I can see why she obeyed him, and not just because of the abuse. I should clarify, in a maddening sort of way I can see why she did not leave. It was the same obsession that I had Lily that kept me holding on to my own desperate and unrequited love all those years. Hermione's love has me hanging for the opposite reasons, and that makes it so much stronger, but that's not what I am really talking about right now.

When I was twelve I broke my father's favorite beer stein. It happened on the first day I got home after my first year at Hogwarts. My father already hated me because of my own magic among other reasons, but I could not do magic at home to defend myself, and my mother would not. I sat in fear the whole day waiting to be thrashed by my father and waiting for my mother to get thrashed too. I ran in the park with Lily all day, and at the last possible moment I snuck into my bedroom unnoticed. When my mother tucked me into bed that night she showed no visible signs of having been hurt, and when I started to ask about the mug she put her fingers to her lips to shush me.

From my room I could hear my father calling for more ale and my mother shuffling about in the kitchen, but still nothing. I crept out of my room to peek in on him, and there he was, sitting in front of the television drinking out of his favorite beer stein, good as new. My mother had used magic that day.

My father died later that summer. Despite some rumors, I did not kill him. I do believe my mother did. I like to think that one simple spell of putting that mug back together had reawakened something inside of her that she had longed to forget about. The trouble was that when my father died, my mother did not pick up her wand again. She might have been punishing herself for his death, or even for my neglect. I never had the heart or the courage to ask her. As I grew older my boy worship of her withered into something between pity and disdain. She was a brilliant and talented which in her youth and it was all for naught. She died when I was sixteen, and not by me directly, but of neglect. She had given up on life and succumbed to poverty and loneliness, and a life without magic. I still loved her in my own childish way, for she was my mother after all, and the one who gave me the gift of magic. But as I lay there in Hermione's arms, all I could do was thank both my parents for teaching me exactly what not to do to make a mockery out of something as sacred as a family. And not just any family, a magical family.

"What time is it?" Hermione whispered into my bare chest. Her eyes were still closed and her breathing had remained so even I did not realize she was awake.

"Just after four," I whispered back, for the moment seemed appropriate for whispers.

Hermione moaned a little and wrapped both of her arms around me tightly. "You should probably go."

I couldn't help but smile at the gesture and I reached my hand up and found a lock of her hair to play with it. It was big and curly hair, but impossibly soft.

"Maybe I should go when I am good and ready," I replied.

Hermione snuggled closer. "But then somebody might see you. You don't want anybody to see you, do you?"

The words were muffled and her breath tickled my chest.

"I can use the floo straight into my own room, love," I said. She was still half asleep and acting horribly naïve.

"Mmm, that's right," she answered me by beginning to trace small circles on my lower back with her finger. I was definitely waking up.

I pushed Hermione away from me just enough so that I could see her face. She kept he eyes close, but there was an adorable sleepy smile on her face. I kissed both her eyelids and then her lips. It was long and soft, and after Hermione's eyes fluttered open. They were cloudy with sleep and a hint of desire.

"Maybe Hermione, I want to make love to you, get out of bed together, have breakfast together, go about our work, and then come together again at the end of the day," I whispered into her mouth. I punctuated each pause with another kiss.

Hermione slowly dragged her hand over my hip and took hold of my increasing girth into her hand. I reacted by shifting my hips closer to her and moaning softly. Her touch was simple and not exactly daring at this stage of the relationship, but enough to send me over the edge.

"We will have that in five and half months when term is over." She added some pressure to her ministrations.

I pushed her onto her back forcing her to release me as I traced every line and gentle curve of her body with tongue. When I finally found her heat with my mouth she arched and pulled at my hair. Within seconds I was buried deep inside her and kissing her as we rocked rhythmically together. We made unhurried love.

After, I knew I had to tell her. "Poppy knows."

"Poppy knows what, exactly?" Hermione asked looking in my eyes. "Because if she knows about us, she didn't it hear it from me. Draco and I used Muffliato when we were talking."

"It was from me. Or, technically Draco. He made a comment, and I did not deny it, she was there," I said simply stating exactly what happened.

Hermione was fully alert now and sitting up. The sheet fell off of her exposing her breasts. I relished in her relinquishment of modesty.

"Oh, Severus!" she exclaimed. "What did she say?"

"Nothing. I told her she could take her grievances to Minerva and I came to you," I said.

"You came to me. And you proposed," she reiterated.

I heard a note of something unpleasant in her voice.

"Yes, I proposed to the woman I love, the one I am absolutely confident I want to spend the rest of my life with," I said firmly.

Hermione pulled the sheet up to her neck. "The thing about Lucius Malfoy I get. You were scared that it would be a deal breaker for me, and while admittedly you went about it the wrong way, I could forgive you for it because we will both make mistakes like that. But did you shoot that proposal off because you felt like you needed to make an honest woman out of me or something? Because when people find out, they may not think it is as bad if we are getting married?"

None of those things had even crossed my mind and I was more than little angered that she implied it.

"No! Absolutely not, Hermione. I came into this room with nothing other than intentions to tell you about Malfoy and Poppy, but something came over me and I proposed instead. I am already angry with myself for not doing it how I would have liked to, but that proposal was nothing if it wasn't honest." I swung my legs out of bed and prepared to pull on my boxer shorts. I couldn't believe we were about to have an argument after one of the best nights of my life.

I pulled on my shorts, but stopped and swung my legs back onto the bed. Sighing deeply I rested my head against the headboard and closed my eyes for a moment. When I opened them I could feel that a little of the anger had drained from my face, but not all of it. I reached out and took Hermione's hand.

"You should know me better than that by now," I said. There was a little bit in my voice and I didn't like it one bit. It sounded like my father.

Hermione laced her fingers through mine, but there was still some hurt in her eyes. "I do."

"Hermione, this is not going to play out well for me. You will be the victim of the disgusting older, ex-Death Eater, teacher who seduced a student. The only thing that will protect me from being hanged is the fact that you were of age and therefore old enough to give consent. Maybe, the little bit about you chasing Horcruxes for a year before returning to school will help you appear as more of an adult, but the fact remains for the first half of this school year, you were a student."

"Poppy won't tell anyone," Hermione said hopefully. "She cares about both of us."

Something inside in my dull male brain clicked when she said that. Poppy cares about both of us. She was my friend. Poppy nursed me back to health so many times I owe her my life and I did not tell her I was in love. She may be or may not have been angry about my choice of partner, but I did not confide in her. Hermione was teaching me enough about friendship to have finally figured something out on my own.

"I need to go speak with her," I said getting out of bed and pulling on the rest of my clothes.

Hermione got out too and pulled her robes around her.

"You should go back to sleep," I said.

Hermione shrugged. "I think I am going to take a bath and then get a head start on my day. With the last few days being so busy, I have let things pile up a little bit."

I stepped up to the fireplace. "Just in case."

Hermione nodded. "Severus, whatever happens we are in it together. Times are changed though, we don't have to be married to be together or live together."

"Then call me old-fashioned." I fought to keep my voice from cracking because it sounded eerily like she was taking back her answer to my half-assed proposal. I pulled her into my arms and kissed the top of her head. "I love you."

"I love you, too," she said.

"But you don't want to marry me?" I couldn't help but ask.

"I said I do." She pulled back so she could look in my eyes. "You have to understand that there are some things that are difficult to hold inside. I don't have the kind of confidants you have. This is a big secret for me to keep. Half of me wants to rush out to the nearest book shops to get books on magical weddings, and the other half of me wants to tell you no and to wait until I don't have to hold it in anymore. It's because I am happy, not because I am having doubts."

Hermione needed her mother. A blind fool could see that. She did not have a long list of friends, and only Harry and now Draco, knew about us. Minerva was good, but not in the jump up and down 'I'm getting married!' sort of way. I had a lot to do.

"I believe you, Hermione. Let's just say that I committed an incredibly charming and romantic blunder. And now that I know how you feel about it, I can go back to my snarky bullying self."

"Very funny. Now go to Poppy before she writes to the Daily Prophet," Hermione pushed me into the fireplace and sent me to the hospital wing.

When I arrived the wing was quiet, but I could hear Poppy bustling about on the opposite side of the room. I peeked in on Draco who was sound asleep and saw Poppy tucking a blanket around a second year Hufflepuff. Steam was issuing out of the poor child's ears.

"A very bad cold. The first dose of Pepper-Up potion didn't work, but this one ought to do the trick. Now go to sleep," she said as she closed the curtain around the tired student.

"Good morning, Professor," she said formally to me.

"Cut the crap, Poppy," I replied with as much jocularity as my deep and sardonic voice could muster.

She said nothing and stalked to her office. She went right in and began fixing a cup of tea, but she did not close the door so I took it as an invitation.

"I will get right to the point," I said after helping myself to a cup of the Oolong tea I know she favored. "I should have told you about my developing friendship with Granger."

"She is a student, Severus," Poppy exclaimed.

I raised an eyebrow. "Was a student. A very talented, bright, and mature student who also happens to be nineteen years old. Twenty if you count the year she used the time turner. Not to mention she spent an entire year hunting pieces of Voldemort and played a key role in ending the war."

Poppy pursed her lips in response.

"Come now," I said ingratiating her. "What bothers you the most? The possibility that I may have seduced a student, which I did not, or the fact that I neglected to let you in on my little secret?"

She harrumphed in response.

"You had to have had some idea," I continued. "Remember how often Granger came to visit me when I was convalescing?"

"She has a kind heart and she was worried about you," Poppy stated matter-of-factly. "She saw you get bit and…, and that is her just her way."

"That is true. She does have a strong drive to care for others when she believes not many other people do." I took a large swallow of tea and then refilled my cup.

"Let me give you a brief, but concise account of events. You may feel less uncomfortable with the situation when I am through."

Over the next half hour I told her as much as I could about the connection with Hermione while I was out of body. I told her how our relationship progressed from one stage to the next, and I ended with the botched up proposal from the night before.

"Oh, Severus," Poppy covered her mouth to hide her smile. "You really made a clanger of that one."

"That's what happens when you fall arse over tit," I replied with some slang of my own. "What were you really angry about? Granger, or the fact I didn't let you in on the secret?"

"Is it still Granger?"

I sighed. "No. It's Hermione."

"I wish you would have told me. I understand why you did not." She refilled her own cup of tea. "Now tell me more about her parents."

I had left in the part about traveling to Australia with Hermione and mentioned how I wanted to do something to restore her parents' memories without jeopardizing their current familial status. Poppy and I both agreed that Hermione would be pleased to have a little brother just as much as she would be to have her parents back.

"Didn't she cast the charms with some sort of code word, or plan to be able to restore them?" Poppy asked.

"I believe so, but when she saw how happy they were without her she was terrified of ruining that for them. She is afraid they will not be able to forgive her."

"Of course they will. They don't have to leave their new life if they don't want to. Hermione just needs to be a part of it," Poppy mused aloud. "We have to get her to give more information on the memory modification. What she destroyed permanently, what she left intact. I know you are good with memory work, but we need the combined powers of pure magical talent and strong memory skills. Hermione is clearly powerful enough to cast the spells, but can she undo them?"

I reckoned that Hermione probably could undo them, but there were emotional obstacles that could get in the way. Also, she would have to keep their current memories completely whole and that was the difficult part.

Poppy wiped a tear out of the corner of her eye. "What a brave and tragic thing for her to do."

"Agreed," I said feeling my own emotions beginning to well up.

Poppy sat in reminiscent silence for a few more moments before speaking up again. "You know who we need to speak to about this."

I could only think of one person in the castle with knowledge of memory charms that might be able to help us.

"Flitwick," I said.

"Right in one."

"Poppy," I said earnestly. "I do not want to hide my relationship with Hermione, but I do not want the world to see how deep it is. Not until more time has passed. We have to put on airs that our friendship is new and growing. Neither of us is ashamed that she was still technically a student when we began our relationship, but in order to protect both our reputations and that of the school's we need this to be kept quiet."

"Discretion is my middle name," Poppy said pretending to button her lip.

I skipped breakfast that morning so that I would have time to shower and properly get ready for the day. I was completely exhausted from getting very little sleep the night before, but it was exhilarating in way. During the war, and the couple of years leading up to it, my lack of sleep was usually associated with Dumbledore or Voldemort. This was a happy new kind of exhausted. If I had male friends that appreciated gloating I would be bragging to them that my golf game was off because I was oversexed and exhausted. Not that I would ever treat Hermione with that kind of disrespect, but it was fun to imagine.

I didn't see Hermione again until lunch. She looked tired as well, but happy and apparently brimming with some kind of news. I could practically see her vibrating in her seat. I was not able to sit by her because she had Hagrid on one side and Bill Weasley on the other. She seemed to be in some deep conversation with both of them and I heard the names Harry and Ginny come up. I looked to the Gryffindor table and sure enough, Potter was approaching Ginny. He had a gift in his hand and when Ginny would not speak to him, he placed it on the table and walked away.

I looked over at Hermione for an explanation. The last Harry and I had spoken about the subject he was absolutely convinced that Ginny was not the girl for him.

Hermione looked disappointed that things had clearly not gone well. "Peace offering," she mouthed to me. I nodded and turned back to my meal. I made a mental note to summon Potter to my office within the next day or two to talk, but I didn't have to wait that long. After I left the Great Hall, I wandered up to the seventh floor corridor hoping to catch Hermione there, but instead I found Potter and Weasley in front of the Gryffindor entrance locked in a heated battle. A small crowd of students had gathered and were cheering them on. Their wands were on the floor and they both had each other in a head lock. It would have been amusing if it wasn't such an undignified display.

With great care I levitated them both apart and set them each down about ten feet away from each other. They both seemed to come to and realize that there was an audience. Among them, Ginny was holding the package and glaring from one to the other with tears of anger and embarrassment in her eyes.

I summoned both their wands and ordered them to follow me.

"Go back to your studies," I snapped at the rest of the students milling about.

I made them follow me all the way to the dungeons. Once we were in my office I rounded on them both.

"That was the most disgusting display of immaturity I have ever witnessed. Two of the most revered wizards of the age with their wands on the floor," I spat out. "How you survived until know is incomprehensible to me. Do you have anything at all to say for yourselves?"

Harry remained silent and looked properly chagrinned. Ron, thickheaded as ever, could not remain quiet.

"He was going after my sister again! He already messed her up twice and I'll be damned if he is going to do it again," Ron said purpling with anger. I lifted a hand to stop him.

I looked at Harry for an explanation. I am sure we were both thinking back to that conversation a few weeks ago when he decided to reappear after returning to school under his invisibility cloak.

"I was not asking her to be my girlfriend again. It was a peace offering because I miss all the Weasley's, but clearly, I don't know what I was thinking." Harry shot Ron a nasty look.

Ron's face calmed slightly. It was evident that he and Harry had not had a chance to talk about things much with Ron. Ron's loyalty to his sister was only enhanced by the loss of his brother, and his already stubborn nature made it even more difficult to get through to him.

"I didn't know all that," Ron mumbled.

Harry snapped. "Of course you didn't! You won't listen to anyone for more than a minute and that's only if they are saying something about what a hero you are! It was hard for me too! I never once asked anyone to make me the The Boy Who Lived, but it happened and I dealt with it the best I could, and plenty of times with no help from you because of your jealousy. I love Ginny, I really do, just not in that way, and maybe someday that will all change, but for now I can barely figure myself out. This feeling sucks Ron. I was raised to defeat Voldemort and die doing it, but I survived and now I have no idea who I am anymore or what I want. I do know that I don't want to marry Ginny right after we get out of school, but I also know that I don't want to lose her friendship or yours because your family is the only family I ever had!"

Bravo, I thought. As much I used to be an advocate for keeping things bottled up inside, I was glad that Potter finally let go. Maybe he would be reunited with the Weasley's and things would return to some sort of normalcy for him. It would also make Hermione happy.

"Professor, I have no excuse for my behavior," Potter said to me straightening up.

Ron looked at him in shock and then at me. I kept my face as impassive as possible. Most of the school had noticed that I had stopped bullying a long time ago, but Ron Weasley had a way of seeing things through lenses clouded with the past.

"Indeed," I said stonily. "You may be war heroes, but you are clearly not too old for detention. I will see you both back here at nine tonight."

Harry took his offered wand and moved for the door. I withheld Weasley's wand until Harry was through the door. Ron took hold of the end of his wand and pulled, but I held fast.

"Grow up, Weasley," I said and then let go.

**A/N: Here is another chapter, yay! I hope I can keep this ball rolling. Big things are happening now. What do you think? Should Hermione's parent's memories be restored even though they started a new family in Australia? Should Harry eventually get back together with Ginny? How is Severus going to get Lucius out of prison? Thanks to all of you who have sent reviews, I REALLY appreciate them! I have one question; does anyone know how to get page breaks to work on this? I used to be able to do them, but now the system is automatically deleting them. Help!**


	34. O Sleep! O Gentle Sleep!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Stealing from Thieves

O Sleep! O Gentle Sleep!

It was actually two weeks rather than one that passed before I returned to Azkaban prison to see Lucius. It took me almost that entire time to meet with the Minister and the requisite twelve Wizengamot leaders that would decide whether Lucius Malfoy's case would be heard, or overturned due to a mistrial. Hermione worked very hard poring through the trial documents from not only the previous and current war, but any other throughout history that might act as a precedent, or to simply find a mistake. One defense a wizard usually has is his wand. If Priori Incantatem cannot prove that the alleged spells were cast, then it could help exonerate the accused. Since Lucius Malfoy's wand was destroyed by Voldemort the night Harry Potter left Privet Drive for the last time he was unable to defend himself on that count. There was always the possibility that a wizard of course could use another wand, but Lucius had not. Voldemort had seen to it. All three members of the Malfoy family had endured the entire Final Battle with only one wand, Narcissa's. That one was destroyed in the Room of Requirement when it caught fire. Harry agreed to return Draco's original wand to him, who in turn surrendered it for inspection. Only one incriminating spell was cast; the Cruciatus and Harry admitted to casting that one himself on one of the Carrows. Minerva McGonagall verified that as true. Hermione said it was lucky that all the illegal spells they did were cast on her and Harry's wands.

In any case, the Wizengamot agreed to rehear the case. Lucius' original plea was guilty to knowingly involving himself with the Death Eaters when Voldemort returned and to breaking out of Azkaban. He was found guilty of harboring a fugitive by the Wizengamot. I was absolutely confident that that charge would either be dropped, or reduced to time served. The Wizengamot was prepared to drop those charges altogether because the escape was coordinated by Voldemort who had taken control of the Dementors and every prisoner was released or killed simultaneously. Any person with even the tiniest inclination of a survival instinct would have joined the exodus from Azkaban prison on that day.

I was tired. I had safely deposited Draco back home with his mother without drawing too much attention to it. I gave the Slytherins no explanation for his departure but I made it extremely clear that if I even heard a rumor of a rumor that someone had something to say about it they would have to deal with me. Lucius's preparations had taken an enormous amount of time even with Hermione's help, and I had been of course keeping up with all my teaching duties. So far, there had been nothing said about my relationship with Hermione, but I was making more of an effort to walk with her through the halls so we were at least seen together, but that did not really cause much drama. I also gave Harry and Weasley a series of late night detentions, each one followed by a very early morning detention so that they were miserably exhausted as well. The detentions were really for Ron's benefit, but they made Harry angry as well and their renewed interest in hating me seemed to be enough drive them back together again and I had the pleasure of listening to two of the world's worst communicators talk through their issues. Consequently, I too was very worn out.

When I finally made it back to Azkaban, Lucius was absolutely livid that I had been delayed a week. I had sent word of my delay, but when one is pickling in the cold salt spray of Azkaban prison, even the most excusable of delays is enough to send one into a downward spiral of despair. Lucius looked worse for the wear when I saw him again. I imagine it was the combined stressors of continued existence in the prison and my agonizing delay that seemed to speed up his deterioration. Lucius wasted no time getting right to the point that he'd clearly been brooding over the most, and that was my suggestion that he may have to give up his magic.

"Is there really a possibility that I will not be legally allowed to magic again?" He brushed his greenish hair out of his eyes as he spoke and I noticed that the skin on his hands was stretched taut over the knuckles and bordering on transparency. Every bluish vein stood out like little rivers over his bones. The desperation in his red rimmed eyes was disheartening.

"I doubt that will be the case," I answered tiredly. "It is not so much the possibility of losing your wand that you need to worry about, but rather how you will convince the Wizengamot that should you be released from Azkaban it is an acceptable consequence for your past behavior. However, I believe that you will be allowed to use magic. I do not know what will happen, but we will hope for the best. Once this case goes public, prisoners are going to start calling for mistrials left and right so we have to prepare for any eventuality. Fortunately there are very few here that have a legitimate claim to the kind of innocence you can, if there are any at all. I can't think of any. You can always abscond to France or somewhere and start all over again."

Lucius seemed to consider the possibility of a fresh start somewhere else in Europe where the British Wizengamot could not touch him.

"No," he said quietly and then lapsed into thought again and seemed to disappear inside himself.

After a minute a particularly violent wave crashed against the outside walls and a heavy wash of seawater sprayed through the window, over us, and coated the table where we sat. I wiped the briny water out of my face in annoyance, but it seemed to recall Lucius to the present.

"No," he said again louder and with more surety. "I do not want to leave. Wiltshire and my manor are where I want to be."

"And your anti-Muggle sentiments?" I asked.

"Voldemort had a Muggle father." Lucius said it as if it was the first he'd heard of it, although I know he found out shortly after Voldemort's demise.

"Would that have stopped you?" I asked casually. "I mean if you knew that his whole mission to destroy Muggles stemmed from an exorbitantly irrational need to get revenge on his own father for abandoning him and his mother, would you have followed him?"

Lucius considered the question. "Probably. It was power, was it not? The motivation was none of my concern. I was raised with Pureblood supremacy as the unspoken rule in my home. Narcissa's family was more involved than mine, but mine certainly did not object when I took my position among the Death Eaters. Do you want to know what really eats at my conscience? What really creates the most dissonance inside me?"

The question was rhetorical but I nodded in encouragement anyway.

He waved his hands in the air and leaned back in his seat. "It's that I _know_ Muggle borns don't steal their magic and are not inferior, the Granger girl makes that perfectly clear."

My throat closed a little at his mention of Hermione.

"Realistically, there has to be some magical blood somewhere in their lineage for them to have magic in the first place. And look how many Pureblood families are inbreeding due to prejudice and producing squibs or worse? I used to be intelligent, Severus! I cannot reconcile the fact that at one point in my life I believed I was an intelligent man, but at the same time jumped on a bandwagon heading for certain doom. That I actually believed we could stamp out Muggles. I didn't care about killing Muggles. I just wanted to be in power when it was all over. I cannot for the life of me recall why." He raised his eyes to the ceiling laughing. The expression on his face was one of distorted revelation.

"What brings on the change of heart?" I wanted to know.

"Brooding on my past stupidity is my new favorite hobby. It's all they allow me to do here," he said irritably. "No, that's not all. I _had _power. I had money and connections and a thriving wizarding investment corporation with a few Muggle customers adding to the bank as well. I'm surprised that never came out. I was getting rich off the very people I claimed to hate. I am a hypocritical bastard just like Voldemort."

"Very astute," I responded and to my surprise I meant it. I had not planned on being mean, but I owed him honesty. Not that I was really any better. I got sucked in myself once.

"There was one other thing. When I was being led through the Ministry building to be brought here one of the guards was a Muggle-born. He said to me, and I will never forget this, 'You think that Muggles are weak? Do you think spells are faster than machine guns? Muggles scientists are magicians too, magicians that would dissect every single one of us who could do magic until they found its source.' Is it true? I don't even know anything about Muggles," Lucius said quietly.

I stood up ready to leave. I needed to get back to Hogwarts to teach and I was so very tired. Lucius's words had only reminded me of my own past idiocies and I wanted to sleep and forget them.

"Draco will be here tomorrow. I will let him give you tidings of your wife. I will be here to travel to your hearing with you in a fortnight," I said.

"Severus," Lucius said. His eyes were pleading.

"Yes, Lucius, if we were to go to war with Muggles their technology would enable them to fight us. One bullet from their machine guns will end your life as surely as the Killing Curse and they travel so fast you will feel it sink into your flesh before you even hear it fired," I told him. "We would not be able to hide from them forever."

I did not stay to see his reaction. I wanted to leave there and never go back. I wanted to find that guard and thank him for him saying the one thing to my friend that he needed to hear in order to make him see reason. Somebody needed to make him think and ironically it was someone with Muggle blood. I didn't know or care why it affected Lucius so and neither of us ever brought it up again.

Back at the castle most everyone was in the Great Hall eating their noon meal. I tried to sneak to my office undetected so I could take a headache potion before my next class, but I was cornered by Potter before I could get to the stairs.

"Your detentions are over, Potter," I grumbled hoping that would be enough to send him off.

He shrugged. "I know. Hermione told me."

"Fantastic," I said sarcastically and kept walking. He met me stride for stride. I didn't speak all the way to my office. Nor did he.

I rounded on him at the door, my robes swaying in that bat like way so many students feared over the years. "What is it, Potter?"

"I just wanted to let you know that I know those detentions weren't personal. They er, helped a lot in getting me and Ron talking again," he said.

"Wonderful news." My sarcasm was on fire. "Did Hermione tell you that as well?"

"No," Harry said as if I had nerves of steel to dare say such a thing. I glared at him.

"No, _sir,_" he repeated, this time with sarcasm even I could admire. "Give me the benefit of the doubt for once would you? I am not as stupid as you think I am."

I sighed. "Let's just be glad you are not as stupid as you look."

"Very funny."

He still made no move to leave.

"Go away, Potter. I have a headache, I am tired, and it is entirely your fault."

"Go away? I'm here for class," he said and opened the classroom door next to my office door. "And you say I look stupid? You must be really tired."

He walked into the classroom chuckling. I really did like Harry Potter and his cheek even if I had given him a detention for just about every time he dared to use it on me. I glanced at my watch and he was right. He was early, but not by much. Soon the classroom would be full. I went into my personal stores and saw that I had not headache potions left.

Once the class was assembled I assigned half of them to making headache potions and the other half to replenishing mine and Poppy's stores of Dreamless Sleep.

"I will be using a couple of these personally," I said from my desk chair where I was leaning back with my eyes closed. "So, if any of you feel the need to poison me now would be a good opportunity to try. Just keep in mind that the rest will be going in the hospital wing and you may get a headache yourself too one day. You wouldn't want to forget which one is yours."

I heard several of the students laughing quietly as they continued to work. I dared open my eyes a slit to look at the class. They looked happy and content working spending a double period doing a potion they were far too advanced for. They were passing each other ingredients, checking each other's cauldrons and talking in low voices. These were students that had spent the last seven or eight years learning from me and it was the first time I had ever made them laugh. Except for the times I did something horrible to a Gryffindor and the Slytherins laughed, but that did not count and I wished I could take it back. I couldn't even remember what kind of a teacher I was like for the ten years before Potter arrived and I had to begin my act in earnest knowing that Voldemort would be returning. For a brief moment I almost wanted to take back my resignation and try again, but it was a fleeting thought and my home in Hogsmeade, and maybe another house somewhere else in the future sounded better.

At the end of the class, once everyone had delivered their potions to my desk I selected one and drank it down. My headache instantly began to abate. I looked at the bottom of the bottle to see who had made it. It was Weasley. I should be specific; it was Ron Weasley, since I had the other in the class as well.

"Congratulations, Mr. Weasley, you just earned your first Outstanding grade in a potions class," I said. On my way to the hospital wing I stopped by the hourglasses and watched happily as I gave ten points to each house but Slytherin. I gave them five. For the first time in a good many years they did not stand a chance of winning the House Cup. Their hourglass was by far the emptiest. I loved my house, but I did not feel sorry for them one bit. I only gave them points because some of the more perfectly brewed potions from that day's class were from Slytherins. It was a small thing, but it seemed to make up for all the unfair points I took in the past at least a little bit.

Poppy was pleased to see the extra supplies when I brought them to her.

"Fancy a drink at the Three Broomsticks after dinner tonight? I am meeting Filius there. I thought we could invite Miss Granger," Poppy invited.

"I'm sure she would enjoy it, but I have to pass," I said.

Poppy smiled her 'I'm here to help you' smile she got when someone was clearly not one hundred percent well.

"You do look tired. You should get some sleep," she said. "I have been speaking to Filius about the situation with Hermione's parents. Of course I left out the details of your friendship. He is more than happy to help if that is what she wants. Of course it is what she wants! Who wouldn't want their family back if they could have it?"

Me. That's probably about it. I would settle for _a_ family.

"Anyway," she continued when I did not respond. "He says he could probably help. Although Miss Granger is a very talented witch, he has high hopes that his skills in memory modification are still superior. He just needs to find out what she modified and it should be easy."

"Like I told you before, Poppy, I do not even know if she would need the help. It is fear not capability that is getting in the way," I said rubbing my temples. I had spent enough time trying to get her to talk about her parents, but she never seemed to want to. "We still have time I hope. This is something that can at least wait until the Easter holidays, if not until the end of the year. I won't do anything without her express consent and it is not a conversation I will be able to have today."

Poppy rested a hand on my arm. "Of course, dear, I just very much want a happy ending for her. For both of you."

"If I ever find my way to a bed and die in my sleep, rest assured I had a happy ending," I said.

Next I went to the Headmistress's office and notified her that I was feeling ill and planned to sleep it off and asked to be excused from any duties or rounds.

"You always look ill, Severus," she commented drily. "You should sleep more often. And get some sun, you are far too pale."

I took that as her consent. My last stop was Hermione's classroom. She had a few first year stragglers surrounding her desk and it was clear she was offering extra to struggling students. When she saw me in the doorway she excused herself momentarily.

I resisted the temptation to lean down and kiss her since we had company, but I did lightly brush her hand. I had to touch her at least a little.

"You look so tired," she commented.

"That seems to be the general consensus," I agreed.

She smiled. "You have been so busy lately. Poppy sent me a note inviting me for drinks after dinner. I think I will go."

"You should. I am afraid I would be poor company tonight. I am going home to Hogsmeade for the night," I told her.

"Now?" she asked. "Have you even eaten yet today?"

Now that she mentioned it, I hadn't. "No, but I promise I will."

"I will come by later and kiss you good night," she promised.

I did as I promised and had a meal. I enjoyed the quiet and comfort of my bedroom for only a few brief moments before I drifted off into a peaceful dreamless sleep.

**A/N: Thanks to all of you who have reviewed! I hope to keep up the updating momentum. Your encouragement is wonderful!**


	35. Done to death by slanderous tongues

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Stealing from Thieves

Done to death by slanderous tongue was the Hero that here lies

The school hosted a ridiculous ball for Valentine's Day. I think all balls and dances are ridiculous because all they do is invite boys to feel uncomfortable and for girls to wallow in tears on the stair wells. It inevitably always happens. If I recall correctly I saw Hermione herself battling tears after the Yule Ball. I doubt it was Viktor Krum who had offended her which leaves Potter and Weasley and my money is on Weasley. I never bothered to ask Hermione, it was not important, but I was confident that plenty other couples would go through a similar sort of thing. The dance was suggested by several seventh/eighth year girls to the Headmistress as a sort of morale booster after the war. The Weird Sisters were once again recruited to play which pulled in the boys and soon the school was abuzz with the idea of the dance.

"I am so glad I don't have to take a partner to this one," Harry said one afternoon while he, Hermione, and I were having tea in my house in Hogsmeade.

"I don't blame you," Hermione replied. "Although I would hope that this time, if you did have to take a partner, you would at dance with her at least one time voluntarily."

"Yes," I interjected. "I do seem to remember you and Weasley lurking about in the bushes outside a lot that night spying on other people's conversations. Or, at least I hope it was only spying."

Harry blushed quite satisfactorily. "We weren't trying to spy, it just sort of happened."

"Naturally," I mused. "Everything sort of just 'happens' to you. I forgot."

Hermione smiled in mock exasperation. "Play nice. I think it will be fun."

Harry grunted. "I don't even know if I am going to go. Ginny is already kind of hinting that Valentine's Day would be a good opportunity for us to get back together. I don't want it to be weird, and I don't like to dance."

I'm not much of a dancer either and I wasn't quite sure how to break that to Hermione because undoubtedly she was expecting me to want to dance with her. That seemed like a little too much of a display for the students. They had grown accustomed to my behavior over the course of the year, but dancing with Hermione might be too much. I wanted to dance with her, to be honest, but I was terrified of making a fool of myself in front of the school. It is interesting the things we choose to be cowards about. Hermione, with all the grace she possesses, could somehow read my mind and never brought it up.

"Well we have to be there," Hermione said. "And the Weird Sisters are really good. You could at least stop by. You could always dance once with Parvati to make up for the last time."

"Not going to happen," Harry glanced at his watch. "Better start heading back to the castle before anyone notices I'm gone. I'm devising completely new strategies for the Quidditch finals."

"I have to go too," Hermione said. "I have a couple of errands to run."

That was news to me. What surprised me further was that after a quick kiss goodbye she Disapparated away. I had gotten used to Hermione and telling each other our plans. Feeling strangely left out I decided to go through my notes for Lucius' hearing one last time. The hearing was scheduled for the 15th of February, the Monday following the Valentine's Ball, which would take place Saturday night. I wasn't sure which I dreaded more. Realistically it was the outcome of Lucius's hearing. Dances were boring and hideous, but only last a few hours. I could tolerate dancing at the parties that the Malfoy's and their friends always invited me to because liquor was usually involved. I wouldn't be so lucky at this one.

There was really nothing more for me to do in regards to the hearing. Everything that could possibly help him was laid out in black and white and already sent to the Wizengamot for review. As his representative, I would be allowed to speak in defense of Lucius should the Wizengamot have any questions, but ultimately the fate of the hearing would rest on Lucius's shoulders. I had instructed him to be completely honest about his misdeeds because there would be no benefit to holding back. Luckily for him there was not much to admit to. Draco planned as well, but no one else would be there. It was not going to be a full trial, and the hearing was closed to the public. Afterwards there would be no way to hide the results and I feared the backlash on me would be severe. Luckily we had made it to the last week before the hearing without any wind of it in the papers. That would all change soon.

The Friday morning before the dance I was late for breakfast because a few of the Slytherin first years had given some Puking Pastilles to Filch's cat. Unfortunately once that cat started puking they could not get it to eat the other end. Filch had rounded Vector and I both to the scene of the crime purple faced and apoplectic with rage. Mrs. Norris had to be the oldest cat in existence, but we managed to restore her to some semblance of feline health. I let Professor Vector handle the detentions while I went back to my rooms to shower and change my clothes. Scourgify would clean them, but there are things that even magic will not satisfy in the same way that soap will.

Waiting for me in my rooms was Hermione's otter Patronus swimming in the air. When I arrived it stopped frolicking and opened its mouth to speak in Hermione's voice.

"Rita Skeeter wrote an article about Lucius's trial and it severely questions your integrity. I wanted to give you a fair warning before you come into the Great Hall. I sent a copy through your floo so check your fireplace. I would have been there myself, but McGonagall needed me this morning. Hope to see you soon and please don't overreact."

I purposely showered and dressed before walking to the fireplace and picking up the ashy copy of the Daily Prophet that rested there.

Severus Snape: Friend or Foe?

Severus Snape, revered Hero and contributor to the demise of the dark lord Voldemort formerly He-Who-Must-Be-Named, seems to have begun reconnecting with his friends from his Death Eater days. Severus Snape, professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has recently appealed to the Wizengamot to rehear the case against Lucius Malfoy, convicted Death Eater who is currently serving a fifteen year prison sentence for allegedly harboring a fugitive and aiding and abetting Death Eater activity.

According to an anonymous Ministry tip, Severus Snape concludes Lucius Malfoy's original trial was conducted hastily and a sentence reached without hearing all the facts. The same undisclosed source states that to their knowledge Severus Snape has not accused the Wizengamot of treating any of his other Death Eater friends unfairly.

Yet.

The article went on to reiterate my duties as a spy, my love for Lily, and of course Dumbledore's death. Every good and bad thing I had ever done was laid out in Rita Skeeter's capricious pen. She had a particular knack for writing in a way that would have one faction singing my praises and the other screaming for my blood. I had half a mind to take a page out of Hermione's book and chase the woman down with an unbreakable jar. The best I could hope for was that Rita's focus on me in the article would keep the Wizengamot from making a biased decision regarding Lucius. I was not going to give anyone the satisfaction of defending myself against any charges, or of accepting accolades from any that might support me. Particularly because some of that support might be coming from the families of Death Eaters who think I would help them too. I lit the fire in my fireplace, threw the article in, and then made my way for the last half of breakfast as if nothing had ever happened.

Walking through the Great Halls with all eyes fixed on me was a familiar course for me. As I stalked the length of the table to take a free seat, of which there were a few, I counted in my head the months and days before I could say a bittersweet goodbye to this blessed place. Hermione, also late, scooted into the seat next to me only a few minutes after I sat down. I had turned my stony glare on the few students who still watched me and waited for them to turn back to their breakfast before I poured myself a cup of coffee.

Hermione reached under the table and gave my knee a squeeze. "You have mail. Professor McGonagall asked me to deflect it for you. Right now she is in a conference with some parents who feel that you may not be up to your post."

"I would not have expected anything less." I relaxed my grasp on my cup before I broke it. The familiar feeling of being bitter and angry was slowly spreading over me. Mechanically I filled my plate and ate my breakfast in a stony silence just as I had done for the many years I had spent in the castle. I pretended to be heedless of the whispers and finger pointing that was occurring and every table in the room.

Hermione kept glancing at me too, apparently trying to assess my mood. Hesitantly she tried to make small talk.

"It will blow over. They care more about their dance partners than you," she commented flippantly and then blushed when all I could do was grunt.

"I mean, it's just that they know you better now, and not that they don't care about you—"

"I know very well what you meant to say," I snapped at her. "And I don't need to hear it right now."

Hermione turned her face from me and focused on her breakfast, clearly hurt. At the moment I could not let myself be bothered. We sat in silence for another minute or two until Hagrid lumbered his way up to the head table to inform that I was wanted in the Headmistress's office. Took her long enough. I had managed to be late to breakfast and finish the whole thing before Minerva got around to calling for me. A quick glance at my mostly empty plate revealed that I had eaten eggs and sausage, but I couldn't remember a single bite and my mouth tasted like sawdust.

Without a word to anyone I simply got up and left. There were two members of the School Board of Governors, Zacharias Smith's father, and the Patil's father, along with Filius Flitwick and Bill Weasley.

"The Board of Governors is concerned whether your actions outside of the school are appropriate to your position here," Patil began after introductions were made all around. "While your valor has been noted by the Board, your support of a known Death Eater is not only contradictory to what we have been led to believe about you, but also a direct violation of the conditional terms of your reinstatement as a professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

I looked around the room. Minerva's eyes spoke of my support, but it was clear her hands were tied.

"With all due respect, I am not supporting a Death Eater. I am supporting a friend who was held hostage by a megalomaniac and then jailed for it without a fair trial," I retorted.

Undoubtedly both Smith and Patil were recalling the various instances over the years when Malfoy was a governor and had used threats to bend them to his will. Damn Malfoy and his attitude. Now I had to do damage control.

"I have no doubt that my helping Lucius Malfoy may cause you mixed feelings," I continued diplomatically before they could speak. "I am aware that in the past he has used bullying tactics to get the some members of the Board to agree with him on certain topics. I will admit to you that I myself have disagreed with his opinion many times, particularly with those that involved how Albus Dumbledore was running the school." Albus smiled at me from his place on the wall. "Lucius will never serve as a Governor for the school again, I am sure we can all agree on that, but prison is not the place for him either. His family is his priority and they always have been. There is only one way out of becoming a Death Eater, and it is a hastened exit from this world not a friendly shove out the door. Malfoy stayed alive to protect his family and that is all I have to say of the matter. Review the hearing records after the decision is made if you must know more. I stand by my decision and will not revoke it."

Smith and Patil shifted in their seats, but their faces remained impassive. It was perfect that the Board would send their two best politicians to complete the happy task of chastising me. No emotions, just business. It is certainly nothing personal.

"We of course are here in your defense," interjected Bill Weasley to my utter surprise. "Professor Flitwick and I have informed the Governors that the students in this school have not had anything negative to say about you, which we all know is a positive change from the past."

"I have also showed them your class records indicating that your students are performing exceptionally well in their Potion's lessons showing that your teaching has not been affected by your past," Minerva said.

Smith nodded, but raised a hand in supplication. "Yes, that is all very well and we will take your testimonies into consideration as we review the case, but the truth is there have been many letters of complaint brought to us by the parents of the students of this school that feel your continued post may not be in their children's best interest."

It took a moment for his words to register. "While you review my case?"

"Yes," answered Patil. "The Board of Governors wishes to meet and discuss the fate of your future at the school. We have agreed not to suspend you in the meantime and we will return Monday afternoon with our decision at precisely one o'clock. Your presence is required."

"Lucius Malfoy's hearing is at one o'clock," I stated through clenched teeth. "But you knew that didn't you?"

Patil and Smith looked at each other worriedly. Clearly they could both feel my frustration mounting into downright righteous anger. I could only imagine this is how Potter felt each and every instance I would use timing to hurt him. The injustice of it was more stunning than I could have imagined. I was resigning at the end of the year, but even that prideful luxury would be removed from me if I did not appear in front of the Governors.

"There must some other arrangement you can make," pleaded Minerva. "You are placing him in an awful position. If he chooses to attend your meeting rather than Malfoy's hearing and you still decide to suspend him or worse, what will have been the point?"

Brava, Minerva. That was exactly what I was thinking.

"Rest assured, Headmistress, that whatever decision Professor makes on Monday could very well influence the one we bring with us," Patil said rather coldly.

When they were gone I sat heavily in the chair Patil had vacated.

"There must be something we can do," Filius exclaimed.

I sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of my nose in a feeble attempt to ward off the migraine I felt coming. "No, Filius. I appreciate your concern, but I do not want you to do anything."

"He's right, Filius," Minerva soothed as he sputtered with fury. "We are at a point where we have to give the public a little bit of what they want or lose control of the school to the Ministry."

"I had planned to resign at the end of the term," I admitted to Flitwick and Weasley. "There are only a few people who know of my plans and I intended to keep it that way, but it seems that resignation may come ahead of schedule."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Weasley said.

I grunted some sort of reply that I even I could not interpret other than that it was sarcastic.

"I know I haven't quite decided whether I like you or not, but I know what you did for my little brother recently and I know that you have been trying to mend things with people you hurt in the past. I will hardly grudge you for trying even if I still can't figure you out," Weasley said.

I was annoyed by his self-righteousness. "I am overwhelmed with gratitude for your support."

"That is exactly what I mean," Bill almost shouted. "I try to make peace and you toss it back in my face."

"I apologize," I said sighing. "You are correct, that was unnecessary."

Bill nodded unsure of what to say. In the end he opted for nothing which was probably wisest.

"It is time for lessons to begin, everyone should go," Minerva said standing up herself. I was the last to leave the room and she stopped me with a gentle and caring hand upon my arm. "Will you truly resign early, Severus?"

"I don't know, Minerva. If I did it would be in protest of the school and its Governors and I hardly want to add more to your already full plate," I said patting the old woman's hand.

Her grip tightened. "Don't you worry about what I have to deal with, you hear?"

I offered her a small smile in thanks.

"How are things with Miss Granger? You and I have not talked in such a long time. She seems happy," she asked.

My smile widened a little and then faltered when I realized Hermione was probably furious and hurt over how I treated her in the Great Hall. "If she'll have me, I plan to marry her."

"How wonderful for you both, it almost makes me willing to forgive you for going to Lucius Malfoy's aid without speaking to me about it first," she said with just a hint of menace.

"What would you have done if I had?" I asked.

"Sat back and hoped for the best while you did exactly as you planned to do," she admitted. "You have changed much, Severus, but I rather feel that when comes to asking the advice of other people, or taking their feelings into account when you make decisions you are very much the same."

I glanced at the portrait of Dumbledore on the wall. He was watching me carefully and of course listening. He was just a magical portrait, but it was still Dumbledore and his emotions over my impending marriage and resignation showed on his face. I had a vivid recollection of saying something very similar to that man in the very same office when he informed me that I was to kill him one day.

"I'm afraid I take after my mentor in that way," I said before closing the door behind me.

My lessons were somber that day. I did my best to not totally revert to the ugly angry beast I was in the past, but by the end of the day I had taken away fifty points from various houses and assigned six detentions. By dinner the students were hot and heavy in discussion as to what my fate would be. Those with family members that were on the Board of Governors were sought after for any news. Talk of the Valentine's Ball was heavy as well just as Hermione had predicted. I was glad it was Friday and I could disappear until the dance. I was required to act as normally as possible until Monday. I could do that as long as no one was watching.

I took dinner in my rooms. I was preparing to go up to McGonagall's office with a bottle of scotch to discuss what I should do when Hermione knocked on my door.

"Are you still angry with me?" she asked.

I leant down and kissed her. "I was never angry with you."

"It didn't seem that way," she said eyeing the bottle in my hand. "Severus, don't."

"This isn't just for me," I noted holding it up. "I was planning on sharing it with Minerva. In fact, I want you to come to. Minerva and I have often pondered our lots in life over a bottle of the finest Scotch man can make. We have important things to discuss."

At first Hermione seemed a little hurt that I added her as an afterthought. She was going to have to let it go because I was not going to explain myself to her. It was not because I felt some need to maintain some sort of privacy or even because I was not doing anything wrong, it was because I needed her to just accept me for what and who I was without question. I wanted to tell her I loved her, but I needed her to pass this little test of my devotion to her without a discussion too. I managed to refrain from questioning her when she disappeared on some "errands" a few days previously even though I was desperate to know what things made her happy besides and kept her occupied besides me and her job, and of course her friends. It was a little obsessive, but love is obsessive. There is not one part of a man that it leaves unscathed.

"I heard about the Governors from Bill at lunch," Hermione said as we walked to Minerva's office. The halls were empty being after nine o'clock. Only prefects were allowed out for rounds and even they were scarce. Hermione and I were walking so close together our hands brushed and instinctively I intertwined my fingers with hers.

"What if someone catches us?" she asked.

The sounds of anyone's shoes on the flagstone would alert us to another's presence hopefully. "We'll hear them, we can pull apart."

"That's easy for you to say," Hermione whispered so quietly I almost didn't hear.

We met no one and walked hand in hand all the way up to the corridor leading to the Head's office. Neither of us spoke. Hermione appeared deep in thought and a little sad. My mind had turned to her and how I wished I could sneak inside her head to see what she was feeling and thinking. She would never forgive me if I did, but I wanted to know if our love was as mysterious and confusing, and overwhelming to her as it was to me. Would there be another sunrise on the horizon for her if she lost me? Or would her world plunge into pointlessness like mine would if I lost her?

Minerva answered her door promptly when I knocked. "I had a feeling you would be stopping by tonight. Ah, I see you brought my friend Johnnie Walker with you."

She took the proffered bottle from me and ushered us into the office. A table was laid out with a deck of playing cards on it.

"I just had a game with Poppy," Minerva said as she went to clear it away.

"No, leave it," I said stopping her. "Fancy a game of three player cribbage, Hermione?"

"Okay," she said happily. "My parents and I used to play the game for three players all the time."

There it was again, that little bit of sadness hidden behind her smile. Minerva saw it too and I could see the old woman's heart melt a little.

Minerva mixed us all drinks with soda water, limes, and of course the Scotch. "This ought to make it a little easier to take down," she said handing Hermione the class.

Hermione eyed the glass with a slight look of revulsion, but took the glass and then I remembered. She and Draco had almost finished off one of my other bottles of Scotch not too long ago, and I am quite sure they didn't mix the drinks.

"It's not bad really, Hermione," Minerva said. "It takes the edge off of a long day."

"Oh, I know," Hermione said and told Minerva about her night in the hospital wing getting completely pissed with Draco. Minerva could not help but laugh and Hermione finally took a sip of the drink. "This is good, much better than drinking it neat."

We spent the next half hour or so getting involved in the cribbage and making small talk.

"Fifteen two," Minerva said after Hermione laid a card down scoring two points. She moved the pegs up on the board. "Flitwick has hired cupids to come and deliver Valentine's and dance invitations to the students tomorrow."

"Why?" I asked after laying my card down. "It was revolting the last time."

"At least it won't be during class this time," Hermione offered.

"Yes, I agree," Minerva said laying down a run. "We do have that. He hopes the extra distraction will keep the students focused on the dance rather than anything else that might be happening in the school right now."

Meaning me.

"I still laugh when I think of that horrid poem Ginny had the cupids read to Harry in second year," Hermione said. "I would have happily taken cockroach clusters as a gift over that!"

"I do hope that isn't what you got her for Valentine's Day this year, Severus," Minerva joked back.

I was already mentally beating myself. Hermione had "errands" to run. I am cursed with the male affliction of forgetting to buy gifts. I did it at Christmas. I did it again. Hermione could not know about my lack of foresight this time. I didn't care how much I had going on, or what kind of upheaval my reputation and career were currently in, all that mattered was that I make a gesture to let Hermione know that she was of the utmost priority even when I was too busy to show it.

"It most certainly isn't what I got her," I said trying to make it sound as if the thing I did have was far superior to the nothing that it was.

Hermione laughed affably and played her next hand. The talk drifted onto other topics. After awhile Minerva inquired about Hermione's parents.

"Have you given more thought to what you might do?" Minerva asked.

Hermione gulped down the rest of her drink and looked at me and then glanced away when she saw my reaction. "Well, yes."

She hadn't mentioned anything about them to me, but she had been talking Minerva? That did hurt. I was the one who wanted to get them back for her. Well, not the only one, but it would have been a nice gift to give.

"And," Minerva pressed, but not without noticing the way Hermione avoided meeting my gaze.

"And they just had a new baby! Even if I restore their memories so they remember me and their old lives, they would have to completely adjust their new ones in order to fit me back in, and what if they don't want to?" Hermione said nearing tears.

Minerva reached out and took both of Hermione's hands in her own. "There isn't a mother on the planet who wouldn't want back the daughter she lost. You may have erased her memory, but not her heart, and I promise you that there is a void their only you can fill."

Hermione brushed away a tear. There was something in McGonagall's eyes that said she had a story there that I didn't know. The melancholy moment seemed to stretch on for ages as Hermione and Minerva spoke volumes to each other in that unspoken language only close friends and lovers share. I understood that what Hermione needed was her mother, I'd always understood that. What I wanted to understand was why she didn't talk to me.

After awhile the moment passed, the card game picked up, and we were laughing and joking again as the Scotch took hold. It was about two in the morning when Hermione finally said she needed her bed.

"Come back for a minute after you walk her to her rooms," Minerva whispered to me.

When I got to Hermione's rooms I helped tuck her into bed and used the floo to slip into my own room and grab a hangover potion. I made her drink it with a glass of water before I kissed her goodnight.

I was afraid that Minerva might have fallen asleep before I could return to her office, but she answered the door promptly.

"Sit," she said pointing to the chair I had been using all evening. She shuffled over to her desk and pulled a small wooden box out of a drawer. "I want you to have this."

I took the box and looked inside and my breath caught. Inside was a stunning emerald ring set in a somewhat thick band made of platinum. On either side of the square cut stone a series of diamonds one smaller than the next fanned out so that the emerald looked like it was bursting out of ice. It was beautiful. The inside had an inscription: 'As time is immemorial, so is our love.'

"This is a truly exquisite ring," I said. It was very old and must be worth a fortune.

Minerva nodded. "Indeed. It belonged to my great-grandmother Edana, given to her by my great-grandfather Ainsley McGonagall. They lived a long and prosperous life together near the end of which Edana Passed the ring to her son Barclay McGonagall in turn gave it to Barbara Balfour. After many years of familial bliss the ring was once again passed on to a son, Jock McGonagall who gave it to Lorena McDuffie. Jock and Lorena were not blessed with a son, but a daughter whom they named Minerva. As you know, I have no sons or daughters to pass this ring to."

The full weight of what Minerva was offering me settled heavily in my chest. It was more than just a ring, it was an heirloom passed from the hand of one person who loved to another. As time is immemorial, so is our love. This ring was not being given to me just so I could give it to Hermione; it was being given to me as a symbol of Minerva's motherly love to me, and Hermione so that we may be as prosperous in felicity as her ancestors before us.

"I had a child once, a daughter," Minerva said thickly through a throat full of tears. She reached out her hands and clasped them over mine which were both still holding the small wooden box. "I don't speak of her. She was born in London in 1939. I was with a man I loved very much, a Muggle. We were wed secretly because his family would not accept my strange Scottish ways as they liked to call it. They knew I was a witch, but dared not breathe the word aloud. Naturally I kept my name and the little girl when she was born. We named her Adelaide. My husband was a pilot for the Royal Air Force and I worked in the hospitals around London healing the injured from the front lines in France as clandestinely as possible. I was not the only magical person there doing the same thing. World War II deeply affected many, not just Muggles. On the seventh of September, 1940, the large block I lived on was bombed. Adelaide was not yet a year and she perished, for I was gone helping in a nearby hospital and I had left her at home with my neighbor's sixteen year old daughter for caretaking. They both died that night. Six months later, my husband's plane was shot out of the sky by the Germans directly over the city we had lived and loved in together. Such was my grief that to this day, I can scarcely set foot in London without feeling my heart tearing in two. No. I prefer to stick to Scotland and my roots."

Minerva had tears coursing down her cheeks. When she pulled her hands away to wipe at them I touched my own face and felt a tear there as well.

"I am so sorry, I didn't know," I whispered awed at what this wonderfully compassionate and fiercely loyal woman had been carrying in her heart all these years.

She shook her head. "No, you wouldn't know. I don't often talk of such things."

"Love causes endless amounts of pain," I murmured.

Minerva grasped my hands in hers again, this time with a vice like grip. "No, Severus Snape. I did not tell you this story to grieve you, to make you feel pity for me, and I most definitely did not tell you to scare you away from love."

She relaxed her grip somewhat. "I told you because if my baby girl had lived, I would be luckiest woman in Britain if she turned out like Hermione, and if I'd a son to follow, how fortunate would I be if he had been you?"

I reversed the grip of our hands so that I was holding hers. "Thank you," I choked out.

"Severus, please take my ring. Give it to Hermione. It is a blessed thing that has seen many years of happiness. Pass it on."

I took the ring and carefully placed it in my pocket. It might have been my imagination, but it felt as if the fabric of my pants warmed instantly around it. Minerva stood up and I followed. She pulled me into tight embrace.

"Don't let the school governors sack you, Severus. Don't give them the satisfaction," she said fiercely. She pushed me away so she could look up into my eyes. "Do you understand me?"

I did understand.

**A/N: Another chappie up, hope you enjoyed it! Thanks to my lovely reviewers, your comments brighten up my day! **


	36. My heart is ever in your service

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Stealing from Thieves

My heart is ever at your service.

As I walked to back through the hallways of the darkened castle, my heart was so heavy and my mind was so full I feared that I would not be able to sleep again. I walked slowly pausing in certain places as I went. I stood for a moment on the astronomy tower and forced myself to look down where Dumbledore had once lay in a broken heap. I paused in front of the Gryffindor common room where I'd once laid a whole night waiting for Lily to come out so I could apologize to her for calling her a Mudblood. As I passed Hermione's rooms I ran my hand across the gilt edges of the portrait protecting her. The Unicorn sleeping in it lifted its head and glanced at me, and then content I was not a threat, went back to sleep. I took a short walk through the library breathing in deeply the old and musty pages that had been my constant companions those many years. The building breathed in and out as I passed through. The new places, rebuilt after the war, were already as familiar to me as the nooks and crannies I haunted as a child. In the potions lab I touched the cauldrons and sifted through the storeroom until wearied with heartbreak I sat upon the stone floor and cried until the tears would no longer come. I wanted to leave the castle, and had been prepared to at the end of the year, but being forcibly ejected from it before I was ready was more than I could withstand. My own terms had been stolen from me and it was as if I could feel the castle weeping with me, as if it too knew that a part of it would be leaving without a proper goodbye. I was a part of the castle as much as it was a part of me. We all were. It was our lives that gave the castle its sentience.

Time seemed to hang in eternity as I sat there growing stiff and cold on the hard stone floor. After my tears had run dry I forced myself to stand and make my way fully clothed to my bed, where as wide awake as my mind may have been, my fatigued body had other needs and sleep prevailed.

It felt as if I had barely closed my eyes when I was awakened by a relentless pounding on the door to my room. Clearly someone had gotten through my portrait and into my sitting room. It was either Hermione or McGonagall, but neither of them would resort to pounding on my door and shouting.

"Get up, Snape!"

Potter.

"Stop it, Harry, I said would wake him," I heard Hermione chastise.

I dragged my disheveled body out of bed and went to the door. I threw it open with such force that it swung all the way around and hit the wall hard. Hermione was pulled forward into me because she'd had her hand on the doorknob.

"Oomph," she cried as she fell into me. "Sorry."

"You look like hell," Potter supplied.

"Well, if that's all, don't let the door hit you on your way out," I said turning to go back into my room.

"Come off it, Professor," Harry said. "I'm here because I heard about what's going on with you, and Hermione just told me that you might get sacked. I want to help."

I turned back around and moved to my chair in my sitting room. I sat down heavily. "Can I at least have some coffee or some water first?"

Hermione jumped to the task of summoning the house elves to bring me a breakfast tray.

"I thought you were against house elves working," Harry told her as I took a long drink of black coffee. I know its effects were primarily in my head, but I savored it anyway.

Hermione shrugged. "They aren't being treated unfairly here; it is more like a job here than it would be in a house like the Malfoys. Besides I eat their food every day already, don't I?"

I ignored their quibble for a few minutes more while I drank my coffee. I got up and went to the bathroom and tried to restore my appearance somewhat. My eyes were red rimmed and a quick glance at the clock told me that I had probably been asleep for only about three hours. Breakfast would still be going on in the Great Hall.

I went back in the sitting room and sat again. Harry and Hermione were looking at me expectantly just as if I had summoned them there instead of the other way around.

"What, pray tell, do you think you could possibly do to help me?" I asked, and I waved away whatever reply Harry had and continued. "I am resigning anyway at the end of the year, you know that."

"Yeah, but now everyone is just going to think it's because the Governors are making you no matter what you say," he replied. Hermione nodded in agreement.

"Perhaps, but I gave my resignation to the Headmistress in writing already. She has the proof it is not because of the Governors. The school's Governors also have been notified of my resignation which means they have their minds set to make an example of me. There is nothing you can do for me, Potter," I said.

Hermione reached out and took my hand. "What _are_ you going to do?"

I squeezed her fingers and then let go reaching for more coffee. "I am going to Lucius's hearing."

Hermione swallowed thickly, "Of course."

"You can't let them sack you!" Harry practically shouted. While his words were said in quite a different tone than Minerva's, they were implied in the exact same way. "You can't let them dictate when you leave this place."

I sighed and closed my eyes. I spoke slowly as if Potter was too thickheaded to understand what I was saying. "If I resign publicly on Monday morning it will be in protest of treatment I received from the Governors. If I do nothing and go to Lucius's hearing I will be fired because of the Governors. Either way, I will not be able to finish the term. Why does it matter which it is?"

"Because you have rights, Severus!" Hermione cried.

Harry nodded vehemently in agreement. "That, and wouldn't you feel better if you could stick it to the Governor's by quitting first so they don't get the satisfaction of telling you to go?"

"No," I snapped back. "I would be resigning in protest to something they are demanding. Don't you see how that just gives them exactly what they want? If I have to leave either way, I am going to Lucius's hearing; the Governor's will decide what they will. Let my fan club stand in my defense," I finished sarcastically.

"That's it!" Harry jumped up. "I'll see you two later."

With that he ran from the room.

"Good riddance," I mumbled.

"He just wants to help," Hermione said from her chair across the room. "We both do, but I…,"

"But what?"

"I don't know," Hermione said fighting back tears. "This just stinks. You look like you've been crying half the night and I should have been there instead of passed out in bed."

I stood up and went to her. "No, Hermione, I needed to be alone."

I made her stand up and then sat where she was so I could pull her onto my lap. Just holding her took away some of the ache I felt inside. I pressed a kiss on her temple and she returned it with a sweeter one on my mouth.

"So, you are just going to say nothing and go to Malfoy's hearing?" she asked.

I rested my cheek on the top of her head before speaking. "Yes. I think the boldest statement I can make to the Governors is to do exactly what I feel is the honorable thing to do and take my lumps for it."

"But it's not right. What do you think they will expect you to do?" she asked.

I thought for a moment. "Be a good little puppet and set the example of the reformed Death Eater that the Ministry, and inadvertently the school, is trying to make of me."

Something else that Minerva had told me floated through my mind.

"Hermione, I realize that I have made a lot of decisions over the course of the last year that have affected you," I said. "Perhaps I could have involved you more in making those decisions."

"You consulted me in…" she paused and seemed to think for a moment. "You consulted me in the decorating of your house a little bit."

I could feel her smiling against my chest. It meant that she agreed with me, but had already forgiven me for it.

"And you didn't tell me I _had_ to marry you just that you wanted to do it someday. I had some say in that, didn't I?" she continued.

"Very funny," I replied thinking of the ring that was sitting in my pocket and pressing uncomfortably into my hip bone. "Did I ask you if you were okay with me resigning at the end of the year and going into business for myself? Did I ask if _you_ wanted to live in Hogsmeade?"

She shook her head no.

"Do you want to live in Hogsmeade?" I asked her.

Hermione didn't answer. She toyed with the buttons on my shirt, opening and closing the same one over and over again. I closed my hand over hers and forced her to look in my eyes.

"Do you want to live in Hogsmeade?" I repeated.

"I want to live with you," she said.

I touched my forehead to hers and took a deep breath. The scent of her filled me.

"It's a nice house. I really do like it," she supplied.

"But it's not what you would have chosen," I finished.

Hermione shook her head again. "I'm sorry."

"Why didn't you say anything?" I demanded.

"You didn't ask! It was months ago when you picked that place. We have come really far since then. No matter how much I hoped for it, I didn't really know if it was a home that I was going to share with you. You were still touch and go. I only want to see you happy, and having a house in Hogsmeade makes you happy! I can live anywhere if you're content and that is the absolute truth," Hermione stared into my eyes. I could see it was true, but not the whole truth.

"But?" I asked gently. "Come on, Hermione, be honest."

She pulled away and went to the other chair. She tucked her knees up into her chest and stared at my bookshelf. She wiped away a tear before finally answering me.

"I would never have told you not to build the house, Severus. It is quite lovely and homey, and the view is wonderful. You had two homes destroyed by Death Eaters. I was not going to stop you."

"If I had told you Hermione, that I was looking for a house for us to share for the rest of our lives, what would you have said to me?" I pressed.

"I would have suggested a large cottage by the sea. A home big enough for a family, and far away from the nearest neighbors so we could do magic, but close enough to the nearest Muggle village so that my parents could visit comfortably anytime," she said wiping away tears. "But that doesn't matter. It's too late. Hogsmeade is fine. Just fine."

"It's not too late," I said rising. "For any of it. What you described sounds perfect."

Hermione just shook her head.

"Hermione, how do you really feel about my going to Malfoy's hearing?" I asked her. "The outcome will affect you too when our relationship goes public."

"Severus, in that, you have to do what is in your heart. I think your decision is the right one and if there is anything I can do for you, I will," she said standing up too and meeting me halfway across the room.

"Just don't leave me," I said. "That is all you need to do."

"Consider it done."

Despite her words, Hermione abandoned me shortly thereafter. She said she had work things to do and needed to get ready for the ball. The halls were filled with cupids delivering messages all over the building and more than the usual amount of students were out of their common rooms hoping that one of the missives was for them. I let down some of my walls and allowed myself to be slightly amused as the fat little men nappies zipped around on their tiny wings. I stopped by Minerva's office to tell her that I was going to go through with Lucius's hearing.

"Good for you," was all she had to say about it.

I left the castle after that and Apparated to London. Valentine's Day was technically the next day so I still had an opportunity to get Hermione a gift besides the ring. I was going out on a limb with my gift, but it was something she wanted desperately, and I wanted to give it to her. Whatever the outcome, I would be there to pick up the pieces. I stopped off at Gringott's and exchanged some galleons into pounds and exited Diagon Alley. Once outside I turned left and kept walking until I found what I was looking for. I only had to walk a few blocks before I passed a travel agent, and only one more to find a real estate office.

By the time I returned to the castle, my pockets filled with brochures, tickets, and listings, the Great Hall had already been set up for the ball. Dinner was being served in buffet style along one wall and the tables were gone, replaced with round ones that filled the perimeter of the room. The Head table had been removed so that the Weird Sisters could set up their stage. A wooden dance floor had been placed in the center was polished to a high shine.

On my way to the dungeons I almost broke my neck tripping over a cat. Thinking it was Mrs. Norris I almost gave it a swift kick down the hall, but upon closer inspection I saw that it was Hermione's gigantic orange fur ball with the squashed face. I hadn't seen that cat in ages. I didn't even know she still had him. He was part kneazle and fairly wild after all. I bent down and gave him a pat. He twined himself around my legs purring. It was then I noticed that something was tied around his neck. I removed the scroll and unrolled it. It was a Valentine from Hermione asking if I would be her escort for the ball. It was sweet and even my stony heart appreciated it. But, if she had sent it with a cupid I might have had something different to say about it.

An hour later I was nervously knocking on Hermione's door. I wasn't nervous of course to get her, but because what her Valentine had asked me to do was reveal to the world that we were not just good friends, but perhaps something more. If we walked into that Great Hall arm in arm there would be no turning back. I had dressed more carefully than I originally planned to. I was wearing my nicest set of dress robes, and they were not all black. My vest was an emerald green and instead of wearing a coat and tie, I put on a silk black cape that didn't cover nearly as much of me as my usual ones, or billow so much. I was holding a wrist corsage for Hermione, not even really sure if it was something people did anymore. I made it myself and I had chosen an arrangement of green and white flowers so that actually resembled the ring I expected to put on her finger soon.

Hermione opened her door a few moments after I knocked. She took my breath away. I thought she was beautiful at every moment of every day inside and out, but even if I did not know and love her already she would have had me eating out of the palm of her hand. She was dressed not in a Muggle dress that the girls sometimes wore to these kinds of events, but in full wizarding dress. Her robes were a lovely sateen finish, traditional, and the dress underneath was cut to fit her slender body perfectly. They were a green that very nearly matched my vest and the color brought out the flecks of green in her otherwise brown eyes quite nicely. The sleeves went down to her wrists, but her neck was exposed and her hair was pulled up into a casually becoming pile on her head with a few wisps falling out. I have to admit, that as much as I think Muggle clothes look good, I infinitely preferred the formality and tradition of wizarding robes. I didn't need sexy.

"You look amazing," I said holding out the corsage and fastening it to her wrist. She brought out her wand and conjured me a matching boutonniere.

"I would have been prepared, but if I didn't know if people still did that," she said sheepishly.

"Neither did I," I laughed.

"I hope that Valentine wasn't too much," she said as we walked arm in arm down the hall. Students on their way to meet dates walked past us. Some slowed and pointed us out to their friends and whispered, but most seemed to ignore us and went off to meet their dates. "I wanted to give you something that I thought you had never gotten before and that was a Valentine delivered on a cat."

"You were right about that," I said. "People are paying less attention to us than I thought."

"I don't think many of them realize who we are yet," she ventured. "You look very young and dashing tonight."

"Not compared to you," I replied. "Why green? Because it is my favorite color, or yours?"

"You remember that it is my favorite?" she asked touched.

I reached across my body so I could hold the hand she was using to grip my arm. "There is very little I could forget about you."

There were not many students in the Great Hall when we arrived. There was stock music playing and most of the people that were there were getting food from the buffet and finding tables. Hermione and I joined the special staff table where most of the other teachers were already sitting.

"Welcome!" boasted Professor Sprout. "Isn't this just lovely, and don't you two look just wonderful! How clever to come together, a Gryffindor and a Slytherin showing inter house unity."

"Yes, quite," laughed Poppy who was sitting near Madam Hooch. I couldn't help but notice that many of the teachers at Hogwarts were single. Filius Flitwick had summoned his wife, a nice woman about his height that I remembered had a mean talent with Charms just like her husband, but none of the other professors seemed to have a significant other. Being a Hogwarts teacher could be so lonely. It is hard to meet people when you work in a boarding school.

The dance proceeded without incident. Hermione and I drifted apart to mingle and chaperone, but people still spent an awful lot of time pointing at me and whispering to their friends. Some looked at me wearily as if my vile mood from the previous day would manifest itself at the dance. A lot of the students pulled away to arms length when they saw me coming rather than wait for me to split them up. I didn't split up any close couples that night though. I let them enjoy themselves and a few even ventured to come forth and ask me how I my evening was or to say hello. I was pleased with the student interaction and engaged many in conversation. I was having a wonderful time, and not for the first time I wished all my years as a teacher could have been so pleasant.

About a third of the way through the dance Potter strolled in wearing jeans and a tee shirt and looking smug. He passed through a few groups of students talking eagerly and then made his way to me and Hermione where we were standing by the punch bowl.

"Good evening, Professor Snape, Professor Granger," he said formally with a hint of a smirk. The boy was up to something. "Hermione, may I have this dance?"

"I thought you weren't going to dance tonight," Hermione said plucking at his tee shirt.

"For someone as lovely as you, it is my duty to make an exception," he replied kissing her hand.

That little nitwit was charming my girlfriend. I hadn't even worked up the nerve to dance with her yet.

Hermione blushed and giggled. She handed me her drink and let Harry lead her to the dance floor where they immediately started moving to the music. The song was much too fast for me anyway, I thought. Soon they were deep in conversation and when the melody slowed to something paced for holding someone tight they naturally moved together and kept talking. I wasn't jealous for once, not of Harry. That didn't mean I was going to stand by and let him keep monopolizing her time on the dance floor. I put down both our drinks and made my way to them.

I tapped Harry on the shoulder. "Excuse me, but may cut in?"

Harry grinned at Hermione and passed her off. "Of course you can. Bye!"

I watched as Harry pushed through the students and disappeared out of the Great Hall. I took Hermione's hand in mine and slipped my other one around her waist.

"Go Professor Snape!" a student nearby yelled and some other students laughed along. In response I pulled Hermione a little bit closer and that garnered a few more cheers. Hermione's smile was infectious and I found myself grinning as well.

"You two seemed to have a lot to talk about," I commented about Harry.

Hermione nodded. "Ron is here with Padma Patil. It seems he is making up for the last ball."

Ron was indeed dancing with Padma and they seemed to be having a good time.

"Do you miss him?" I don't even know why I asked.

Hermione considered the question. "Sometimes. Ginny and I have surprisingly grown closer. She was never angry with me for breaking up with Ron. The rest of the family has been much more difficult, but I don't miss them as much as I thought I would. At least not the way Harry did. They were more of a surrogate family for him, while for me they were just my friend's family. Molly Weasley had a knack for getting angry with me in a way she never did with Harry,"

She didn't seem upset, just mature and accepting. I wanted to kiss her, but that would be too much. I wanted to press her more about Harry, but decided not to.

"Oh, and Neville has confessed his undying love for Luna," Hermione said happily pointing to the couple swaying close together not far from us.

"Good for him." I very much liked Luna and her odd but accurate depiction of the world around her. I still hadn't quite forgiven Neville for putting me into his grandmother's clothes, but at least he wasn't terrified of me anymore. He had grown in leaps and bounds and his parents would have been very proud. The least I could do was be proud for them.

Hermione and I didn't dance again in the ballroom because as the night wore on, the punch got spiked and things finally started getting wild. The crying girls on the stairwells appeared and a few people got caught pawing each other's clothes off in a few corners. It was very late after everyone was finally settled in their common rooms. I walked Hermione back to her rooms and went inside with her. I wanted to dance with her at least one more time, just us. I also wanted to give her at least one of her gifts, but she was going to have to choose which one.

When we were in her rooms I took off my cape and then hers. I tapped her radio with my wand and tuned until a slow song came on. I pulled her close and wrapped my arms around her so that the lengths of our bodies pressed together as we swayed to the song. "September Days," played on. It was a perfect song for us, an old Muggle song about an older man who falls in love with a woman twenty years his junior and convinces her that they must marry soon because his time is running short. I wasn't about to die any time soon, at least I was pretty sure that was not going to happen anymore, but I was still feeling a sense of urgency about moving on with our lives.

I bent my head and kissed her soft and exposed neck as we danced. She sighed and pressed closer against me.

"This is how I wanted to dance with you before," I whispered in her ear before taking the lobe and sucking on it gently.

"Hmm," she murmured. "Happy Valentine's Day to me."

After we finished the dance we lay on her couch and made a complete mess of our nice clothes, but it was definitely worth it.

"Do you want your gift now?" Hermione asked after we had broken apart for a drink and some air.

"Hold on," I told her and then hurried through the floo to my rooms. I had taken her gift and the ring and placed them each in matching boxes that were wrapped and tied with a ribbon. When I returned with them she had a package sitting in her lap.

"You first," she said handing me the box. I only agreed because whichever gift of mine she chose was going to be complicated.

I took the box and removed the lid. Inside were three things; a leather bound book, a very high quality chronograph watch, and a picture of some sort wrapped in tissue paper.

"I never know what to give you," she said wringing her hands nervously. "I like my gifts to have practical value."

I started with the book. It was a business ledger. There was a calendar and places for contacts and finances. It was quite nice.

"That is for when you start your own Potions business after we leave here," she said. Something about the "we" niggled in the back of my mind.

I pulled out the watch. It was set in a tortoiseshell band that was quite unique and the face was tungsten. I quite liked it, but the aesthetic value was nothing to the smoothness of the sweeping second hand and its three separate timers. With a simple spell I checked the accuracy of the time. Such a watch is invaluable to potions masters particularly when brews required such precision timing. She didn't need to explain that gift.

"This is perfect, Hermione," I said kissing her deeply for her thoughtfulness. She blushed but was pleased.

Lastly I pulled out the picture and removed the tissue paper. It was a simple wooden frame, made of cherry that matched the moldings in my house at Hogsmeade. The photograph inside was of me and Hermione. We were walking next to each other across the grounds of the castle just talking. There was a lovely blanket of snow all around us and the Hermione kept reaching up to push at some hair that was blowing into her face. After a moment our photograph selves turned their faces to each other and smiled. There was love in both of our eyes.

"Where did you get this?" I traced my finger across the picture. I had never seen a photograph of myself looking happy before, and I certainly didn't have one taken with someone I was in love with. "How did you get this?"

"Dennis Creevey. He took it with his brother's old camera and brought it to me after class one day," she replied fondly. "He said no one was with him when he took it and that he thought we should have it. I thought it would look good in your new office."

"It's very nice." It was more than nice. "I guess we have not been as discreet as I'd thought."

"We have," she assured me. "Dennis didn't suspect anything beyond friendship. He respects you and misses his brother and Dennis said that the happiness we display in the picture is exactly what Colin died for. If people continued to suffer even after the war, his sacrifice, and everyone else's would have been for naught."

"It is very touching." I gently placed the gifts back in the box and set the lid on. Hermione knew me so very well. "Your turn."

I had mixed the boxes up so that even I didn't know which was which. The one she chose was going to be a surprise for me as well.

"You get one now, and the other after the hearing on Monday," I said. "They are too big to do all at once and you will see why when you pick one."

Hermione clapped her hands gleefully. I already knew that even though she would never ask for one, she absolutely loved receiving gifts. "I don't know how to choose!"

I wasn't sure which I wanted her to choose. If she chose the ring I knew what I had to do. If she chose the tickets we were going to have a lot of talking to do, but I did not want her to be angry with me for being presumptuous. The choice was torturing me too. I was tempted to take back the tickets and wait until after the hearing and just bring it up to her. Maybe it was a horrible gift after all. I reached out to take the boxes back when she put her hand on the one on the left.

"I choose this one." She picked the box up and handed it to me. "You open it."

I took the box from her and with fumbling fingers undid the ribbon and peeled away the paper. I slowly pulled off the lid and took a deep breath before looking inside.

**A/N: Which box did Hermione choose? Stay tuned for the next installment of Stealing with Thieves coming to an inbox near you! Please review! They really do make my day and I love hearing your thoughts on how the story is going. Thanks to all of you who have reviewed. I will be replying to you all! **


	37. All change is tinged with melancholy

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Stealing from Thieves

All Change Is Tinged With Melancholy

The box contained the ring. I breathed out with relief. You would think that telling her I wanted to take her to Australia to fix her parents' memories would be easier than asking her to make a lifelong commitment to me, but it really wasn't. I slowly took the small wooden box out of the larger wrapped on.

"Did Minerva ever tell you she had a daughter once?" I asked Hermione.

Hermione shook her head no. "I suspected she did though once, or wanted one but couldn't have one. There was something there."

"Yes," I concurred. "There was something there indeed."

I was stalling, but I felt it was important that Hermione understood the whole story of where the ring came from before I gave it to her. It seemed like we had shed more than a lifetime's worth of tears over the course of the last few days. Her eyes were wet and shining and she kept exclaiming things like "poor Minerva" throughout my speech. I hoped I did the story justice, but the effect on me was not what I had expected it to be. Retelling it put the whole situation into perspective, and made me understand that no matter what Hermione's reaction was, both of my gifts were related to the story. When I finished I slid the other box back across the table and told Hermione to open it.

Hermione did slowly and when she saw the two round trip tickets to Australia in there the tears building in her eyes fell. She dropped the tickets back in the box.

"Severus, I understand why you are trying to do this, but can't you just let me be a coward about this one thing?" she cried.

"No, Hermione," I said sternly. "I'm not sure that I can."

She let out a small sob and I was by her side instantly I wrapped my arms around her while her floodgates opened. I thought she'd been talking to people about this problem and I was hurt thinking that she was leaving me out, but it was clear that this was one thing she'd kept bottled up. I held her until she'd regained some control over her emotions.

"Severus, I know what you were trying to say to me by telling me that story about Minerva. She'd already said as much when she told me that I couldn't erase my mother's heart."

I leaned back to look in her face. "Doesn't that make you feel stronger? Doesn't it make you feel a little more confident that she will be happy to see you again?"

"A little," Hermione admitted.

"I didn't tell you what Minerva said at the end of that story." I hoped it was okay that Hermione was hearing this little bit from me, but I wanted her to hear it. "She said that if her daughter had lived to grow up, she would have considered herself very lucky if she had turned out like you."

"She didn't say that," Hermione chided. "Now you are just trying to convince me."

"I would not lie about that, Hermione. I know too many people who have lost their families to much worse than some miles and a few memory charms, and not a single one of them is in a position to get their families back, myself included." I had stood up and picked the tickets up out of the box. I waved them in her face. "You alone can have them back and yet you are afraid that they will reject you, a daughter they loved and cherished. How dare you insult your parents by thinking that they will not be able to take you back? They did just fine when they discovered you were a witch didn't they? If they need time, give it to them. If they completely lose it, we can re-modify their memories and we will pick up the broken pieces, but you have to try. You will never be truly happy until you do."

"You make me sound so selfish," she said. "I make a lot of mistakes, Severus, and sometimes I get afraid."

I took a few deep breaths and tried to eliminate the anger from my voice. "We all do, and sometimes when we are faced with dangers we cannot avoid we misplace our fear by avoiding things that are not really dangerous."

Hermione reached out and took one of the tickets out of my hand. "These are for Easter break."

"Yes, I thought the sooner the better."

Hermione picked up the other envelope that had been sitting in the box. "I'm almost afraid to open this."

"Are we going to go?"

Hermione looked at me for what felt like a long time. Once again I was pressed with the urge to delve through her brown eyes and penetrate her mind. The urge was so strong that I actually got as far as feeling how overwhelmed she was before I pulled back. I slipped the ring box into my pocket.

"Yes, we'll go," she said quietly, almost resignedly.

I sighed with relief. "The other envelope is just information, nothing that we have to do, only something to think about."

She opened the envelope slowly and slipped out the papers.

"London Seacoast Estate Agents?" She thumbed through the other leaflets and papers. Some contained listings of places I thought seemed interesting.

"I don't ever want to leave you out of a decision like that again," I answered.

"Really?" she said sarcastically holding up a plane ticket.

I frowned at her. "I can't force you to go and I won't, but you know how I feel about the issue."

Hermione put everything back in the box and put the lid on. "I'm gob smacked, I have to admit."

"I can see that I have overwhelmed you," I said sadly.

"You've certainly given me a lot to think about. I suppose it is time I returned the favor," she said.

"All right," I answered warily. Was she about to tell me she was pregnant or something? We'd been really careful.

"I have decided that if, for whatever reason, you have to leave the school before the end of term, I will be going with you in solidarity," she said.

"Hermione," I breathed out in a rush of air. Thank Merlin she wasn't up the duff. I wanted it, but not yet. "I'm still trying to wrap my head around you leaving at the end of term to go to school. It's logical and I believe a good decision, but what about Minerva?"

"She's already looking for a new Transfiguration teacher. It won't be hard; there are plenty of skilled applicants out there. She understands," Hermione said. "She actually seemed kind of glad."

"I'll bet."

"I just want you to know that I support you all the way."

"I know you do, and you will do a fine job of it from the castle," I replied yawning. I was knackered from the last night already and it was very late. "Please help Minerva by finishing out the year not matter what happens to me. I beg you."

"You, beg?" she asked teasing me. "I don't want to be in the castle without you."

"If it happens, it won't be for long. Now take me to bed."

"Wait, what about my other gift?" Hermione asked gesturing to the empty box on the table.

I didn't want to give her the ring. The moment for it was completely gone. I could have just proposed and avoided the whole Australia business until later.

"You're not going to make me wait until after the hearings like you originally planned are you?" she asked.

I shook my head. "Why don't you go get some overnight things and sneak away with me to my room? I will give it to you there."

As soon as she left the room I did some quick, but elaborate, wand work and soon had a matching box that held a pair of green emerald earrings. They would match the ring at least. I just hoped Hermione didn't notice the missing paperweight she'd had on corner nook. I'd never done earrings before, but I thought they would suffice.

Once we were settled into my bed I offered her the newer box. "I guess this gift is not as complicated as I led you on to believe. I just preferred the other one."

Hermione took the box and opened it. "Severus, they're beautiful. Really beautiful."

They weren't real gems being created by magic, but I hoped she couldn't tell. I know that she was far too tactful to mention it if she did. I still could not shake the feeling that I'd gone and botched up another proposal and that the evening sort of ended on a low note. We didn't even do anything in bed that night just held each other and got some sleep. I wasn't complaining, but Hermione knew something us going on with me and like always, had the good grace to play along.

The day of the Malfoy's hearing dawned clear and cold. My morning lessons were somber and I was grateful I would not be teaching any in the afternoon. There were plenty of murmurs in the hallways and Great Hall, but nothing more. Just before noon I went to Minerva's office to tell her I was leaving. Fortunately no one from the Board of Governors was there, but several teachers, Hermione, and Potter were.

"Having a party?" I asked.

"We are here to wish you luck, Professor," Harry said.

I shook hands all around and thanked everyone for their support. I was appreciative of their support, but I was confident I was making the right decision. Even with all the congratulations I had managed to get to the Ministry and get transported to Azkaban by 12:30. Lucius had been allowed to clean up for the event and Draco had given him fresh clothes to wear. His hair looked less greenish and was tied back with a piece of leather cord. He still looked gaunt, but much better.

We did not say anything as the guards escorted us to the Ministry. In the courtroom the full Wizengamot was seated. Lucius was led to the chair in the middle of the room and the chains snaked around his arms and legs loudly in the quiet room. Outside the room reporters waited for the verdict. Draco was allowed inside because he was family. He sat expressionless and stared at his father. Lucius looked at him and offered him a small smile.

"Return it," I ordered. "It will look better for the family if you appear to support him."

"I do support him," Draco said.

"Then show it."

At precisely one Kingsley Shacklebolt stood and the hearing commenced. After the usual statements were made and oaths sworn Kingsley listed the offenses Lucius was originally jailed for.

"At the behest of Severus Snape, your self-appointed solicitor and representative we have agreed to review new evidence that may not have been available at the time of your original hearing," Shacklebolt said.

I fought back a snort. All the information was certainly available before. I caught Molly Weasley's eye in the crowd and she held my gaze for a moment. Her expression was unreadable.

Kingsley went on to read the new plea that Lucius claimed.

"Do you have anything you would like to add, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked when he was through. I had told Lucius not to add anything if he asked him after his plea bargain was read out. I told him to only answer specific questions.

"No, Minister," Lucius said in as strong of voice as his fear and shame would allow.

"Counsel, do you have anything to add?" the Minister asked me.

"No, Minister," I said in a clearer and stronger voice than Lucius managed.

Kingsley Shacklebolt gathered his papers together and tapped them on the podium to even the pile.

"Mr. Malfoy, the Wizengamot has reviewed your case and is agreement that your Death Eater activities over the last few years were committed under duress." Draco gasped and Lucius sat up straighter. Kingsley cleared his throat and continued. "There has been sufficient evidentiary support to indicate that your wife and son did what they could to sabotage the efforts of Voldemort during his swift, but terrible rise to power. Your actions are less clear, but based on review of the previous trial we are prepared to vote to exonerate some of your charges. All I can hope for you is that if you are given a second chance you do some good with it. The Secretary of the Wizengamot will read each charge and will vote on each one, after which we will recess to vote on your new sentence. Once you are sentenced again, you will have the right to appeal. Do you have any questions?"

"No, Minister," Lucius said again, but this time with more vigor.

I interjected with a raised hand. Kingsley motioned for me to come forward. "We are agreed that any guilty charges found today that are consistent with the original verdict will not result in an increased sentence due to the law of double jeopardy, correct?"

"That is correct," the Minister replied.

Molly Weasley stood up and cleared her throat.

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, has been charged with harboring a dangerous fugitive in his home, all in favor of guilty, say aye."

A handful of people said aye, but not half. Molly counted the raised hands and moved to the next charge.

"Those in favor of not guilty say Aye," she said. It was a clear victory.

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy has been charged with breaking out of prison. Those in favor of not guilty say aye." The results were unanimous this time. He was not guilty. I knew that one was coming.

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy has been charged with knowingly aligning himself with the known criminal organization known as the Death Eaters. Those in favor of guilty say aye," Molly said.

This time the vote was for guilty, but that was all right because they could not lengthen his sentence due to the dropped charges. Draco was fidgeting in my seat, but the whole affair had taken less than fifteen minutes. We were escorted to a chamber away from the reporters until the sentencing decision was complete. Draco, Lucius, and I sat in silence for a minute.

"I wonder how Muggle trials work," Draco mused. "Granger said they are quite different."

"Granger?" Lucius asked. There was no malice in his voice, only curiosity.

Draco stared his father down testing him. "Yes, Granger."

"It looks like things will go well for you today," I interrupted. "This has been rather anticlimactic don't you think?"

"That suits me perfectly," Lucius answered.

Fifteen minutes later were directed back to our places. Molly stood up to read the sentencing. In the case of aiding a fugitive his sentence was reduced to time served and the same for breaking out of Azkaban. For knowingly involving himself with the Death Eaters he was let of with time served and one year of house arrest. He was also ordered to pay a fine of ten thousand galleons to contribute to the rehabilitation efforts. For Lucius, that was chump change.

We were about by two o'clock after denying any appeals. When we walked out of the courtroom and into the throng of reporters, Lucius Malfoy was a somewhat free man.

"How do you feel knowing that Severus Snape gave up his position at Hogwarts to be here today?" one reporter asked Lucius pushing his way up to him.

I had not told Lucius about Hogwarts. We did not have enough time and I was not going to concern him with the details when he already had enough on his mind. Draco would not have been able to fill him either, and he would have only known if one of the family friends that still held a position on the Board of Governors told him. By the look on his face I assumed he did not know either.

"My position at Hogwarts has not been publicly determined and has no bearing on this case whatsoever," I responded for Lucius and pushed through the crowd.

Rita Skeeter popped out of nowhere and chased us through the hall.

"Don't answer a single question," I reminded Lucius. He had nothing to worry about. Rita's questions were all for me.

"Do you deny that you were to attend a disciplinary hearing before the Hogwarts Board of Governors today at one o'clock?" Rita asked.

That bitch. I was coming after her with that jar after all. I said nothing and kept walking. The Ministry guards attempted feebly to hold the reporters at bay.

"Is it true that you may be terminated from your post for your connections with a convicted Death Eater?" Rita pressed on.

Lucius took a small step toward her and almost opened his mouth, but thought better of it at the last second.

"I acted in the best interest of a friend whom I believe to be in a position to rehabilitate completely. My actions were borne out of a desire to see justice done and to heal a family. If my actions are deemed inappropriate by the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Board of Governors then I am prepared to accept that as a consequence for my decision. If I am asked to leave the castle it will be with the full knowledge that the Board wishes to make an example of me in order to ease the minds of the population that still doubt my loyalty to any party against the late Lord Voldemort and his supporters." That statement would have to suffice. I had very publicly stated exactly how I felt about the situation and hoped it would be enough to allow me to walk out of the castle with some of my pride intact.

While Lucius was being processed out of Azkaban I explained to him the whole situation.

"That's bollocks," Draco stated flatly. "You've done nothing but help people."

"I appreciate the sentiment, Draco." I left them at the Ministry with the promise that I would visit them all at my first opportunity, perhaps as early as that evening.

I Apparated into Hogsmeade and walked to the castle slowly. The air was still brisk and the sky was a crystalline blue. The snow was blinding as the sun bounced off its diamond studded surface. I tried not to dread what I was about to walk into, but the nearer I got to Minerva's office, the heavier my heart grew.

The halls of the castle were deserted. Students were all in lessons at that time, and the professors with them. I still sensed a different sort of energy in the air. I was at the stairs leading to the Head Office's floor when I was accosted by Harry.

"Professor Snape!" he exclaimed. "How'd it go?"

Harry fell into step beside me. I gave him the brief rundown of hearing.

"That's really good," he said. "I knew there was some sort of hope for them, even if I don't like them."

"That's very mature of you," I was only half sarcastic. "Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"Sure, we all are, but we're not." Harry gestured ahead of him when were rounded the corner to the hallway Minerva's office was located. There were over fifty students milling about in the hallway. Most of them were sixth, seventh, and repeating seventh years.

"We support you, Professor Snape!" a few called out and they cheered for me as I gave the password to the Gargoyle.

Ron Weasley walked up to me and offered his hand. "Thanks for everything."

I shook his hand nonplussed and moved to the automatic steps. Harry stepped on with me followed by the throng of students. "The teachers all went to their lessons because Professor McGonagall ordered them to. We all skipped class to stage a sit-in to prevent the Board of Governors from being able to go into McGonagall's office."

"Where on earth did you get this ridiculous idea?"

"From you. You said, and I quote, 'why don't you get my fan club to help.' I bet you didn't even know you had one." Harry smiled sheepishly.

I shook my head. "Where is the Board of Governors now?"

"They arrived by floo. We didn't think of that, but we still stuck around for support. I'm just glad we were able to catch you or else this whole thing would have been a shambles." Harry reached out and knocked on the door before I could. "This ought to surprise them."

Harry and I entered the office closely followed by the students.

"What is the meaning of this? Padma? Parvati?" Patil sputtered when he spotted his daughters in the crowd.

Padma stepped forward with Ron. "We are here to show support for our professor. We respectfully disagree with the Board's allegations and feel that while the parents may be acting in our best interest, they have failed to take our actual interests in account."

Well said, I thought.

"Headmistress, I order you to remove these students from this meeting or there will be consequences. The Ministry will be happy to step in if necessary."

Minerva blanched at the threat. "Please do as Mr. Patil asks or each of you will receive a week's detention and a twenty-five point deduction."

The students all started complaining at once that it was not fair and that were not leaving. I know Minerva did not want to punish a single one of the, but keeping the Ministry out of the school as important.

I turned toward all of them and ordered silence in the commanding voice that always garnered it in previous years. I had everyone's attention.

"I cannot express my gratitude at your warm support, particularly after I have made many of your lives very difficult for some time now, however, now is not the time. As we rebuild from a horrible war it is truly uplifting to see so much House unity in the castle, but your efforts are needlessly wasted on me. I planned to make this announcement later and to the whole school at once, but regardless of what the Board decides for me today this will be my last year at the castle. I have already submitted my resignation," I said to the deadly silent group.

"Then you have to be allowed to stay at least the rest of the year!" Ron shouted.

"Your support has been noted. Please do as the Headmistress says and go back to your classes. If you wish to show your support, please do so by respecting my wishes," I ordered. Without directly glaring at them I tried to express that they needed to obey. No student flat out disobeyed me in the past and I was not about to let them start.

Harry gave a sharp nod. "He is right, you lot, let's go. Good work all of you."

Minerva had her hands clasped to her chest and she breathed a sigh of relief. Her job was only going to get more difficult. Being Head of Hogwarts is never easy.

"May we get to the business at hand?" Smith asked angrily. "I believe we have been kept waiting long enough."

I glanced at my new watch. They had been waiting precisely ninety minutes. I wanted to remind them that no one made them wait, but managed to keep my mouth shut.

"The Board of Governors has elected to terminate your position at Hogwarts." Patil said without sympathy.

The words were a crushing blow even though I had expected them. I kept my face as calm as possible. Not even in my visits with Voldemort had it been more difficult to remain emotionless.

"Certainly you will take the appeals of the students into account?" Minerva asked. "And how do you expect me to replace him this late in the year? I had a most difficult time getting Slughorn to agree to stay long enough for Severus regain consciousness."

I still hated Slughorn and that was about all there was to say about that.

"He is prepared to finish the school year in Snape's stead, during which time you are required to find a suitable replacement or the Ministry will appoint one."

"The students will surely protest," Minerva pointed out. I was still speechless.

"We expect you to maintain order," Smith interjected. "We must act to ease the minds of the parents we represent."

"What of those parents who disagree with you?" I finally found my voice. I had not intended to speak in defense of myself, but I wanted to know how many people out there were really against me.

Patil and Smith looked at each other. "The Board of Governors has voted and their decision is final."

"You didn't want me to be reinstated in the first place," I pointed out coldly.

Patil nodded his head. "It took a considerable amount of convincing and the Ministry's endorsement. They will not intervene for you this time."

Smith started to gather up his documents and then hesitated. "We are doing you a favor now. There are still plenty of students here who do not wish you to be here and have been trying for some time now to get you sacked. You have been accused of gross favoritism, of turning on your own House, and of violently overreacting to incidences of schoolyard bullying. All of these are direct violations of your probationary reinstatement and had we investigated them all your termination would have come at a much swifter date. By using the Lucius Malfoy trial as an exemplar we are aiding you in protecting your reputation and that of the school's."

There was nothing about Hermione in the accusations. Thank Circe for small favors.

"Let it be known that I believe this is all very unjust," Minerva countered. "There is no accuracy to any of those accusations and we all know it. Very well then, Severus, it has been a pleasure working with you all these years and I wish you the very best of luck in all that you do."

Minerva was struggling to maintain her composure. The portraits in the room were all muttering amongst themselves in disbelief. I looked at Dumbledore's and he winked at me.

"Snape, you will be allowed to make an announcement to the school today if you wish, but you must vacate your classroom immediately in order to make room for the new teacher." Smith had risen. His final words spoken.

"Severus, do not feel you need to hurry to vacate the castle. If you will excuse us I have some unfinished business to attend to with the governors." Minerva led me to the door her face set in determined grim lines. Smith sat back down exasperated.

"What are you going to do, Minerva?" I hissed. "It is over, let it be. I made a statement earlier today that will be in the papers that puts the Governors in a less than positive light. Let that be all."

"I'm sorry, Severus, but I cannot let that be all," she followed me out the door. "You are an inspiration, Severus Snape."

"Minerva!" I gasped. "You cannot resign in protest! I already went through this with Hermione; I am not going through it with you too."

"Go, Severus," she pushed. "I know what I am doing."

I stood there staring at the door for several minutes after she closed it in my face.

Ron, Ginny, and Harry were waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs. They had been joined by Hermione. I was through keeping my face impassive.

"You got sacked didn't you?" Harry asked sadly.

I nodded. Hermione stepped up and wrapped her arms around me in quick but tight hug. I returned it quickly without thinking.

"Hermione!" Weasley gasped when she stepped back. Ginny looked at me and then Hermione and I could see the light bulb switch on in her brain.

"Shut it, Ron. We are very sorry to see you go Professor, er, Mr. Snape," Ginny said.

"Is there still time to stop it?" Harry asked. "Are they still here?"

Harry made a move to go past the Gargoyle. I grasped his arm and stopped him.

"Please, just let it rest," I deplored. It was over. It was all over, except for whatever it was that Minerva planned to do. I was beginning to feel numb inside. Pain would follow, but soon even that would pass. It always takes longer overcome the little insults in life than the big ones, and like Dumbledore's death and my childhood, this pain was rather cumbersome. I had survived thus far, and I would continue to do so.

"I still think we should do something about it," Ginny said. "Perhaps a more organized protest."

Harry blushed at his lack of careful planning.

"No, Miss Weasley," I said. "My words from before still stand. Do not cause any more strife in the school, especially not because of me for it will be at the expense of the students who are affected by your actions."

Heaving a great sigh I began to walk away from them. I had a lot of packing to do and classes were emptying throughout the school. It was the last thing I wanted, but I found myself trapped in a throng of students all the way to the dungeons. My throat closed around the bittersweet thought that it would be for the last time.

**A/N: Uh oh, I wonder what McGonagall is up to… I hope you liked this chapter. It was difficult to write because so much was going on and it is one of those pivotal/transitional points in a story that just needs to get out. Thanks again to all my reviewers and readers. I adore your support!**


	38. Getting Sacked is Hard

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Stealing from Thieves

Getting Sacked is Hard

I did not go check on Lucius's transition to home that evening. Naturally I had much to do in the castle and Minerva insisted that I be present at dinner to formally announce that I would be leaving the castle. I agreed that I would attend, but only on the condition that she makes the formal announcement. I had nothing left to say anymore. Slowly word leaked out anyway. Based off the news travelling in the hallways I wondered if my leaving would come as a surprise to anyone at all. Many of the students who had been in the hallway supporting me stopped by my lab to give their nervous and hesitant goodbyes. I was still numb. I knew that once I had everything cleared and was sitting in my house in Hogsmeade the full weight of what had happened would settle on me. Until then I packed mechanically. Harry, both the Weasleys, and Hermione spent the remaining hours before dinner helping me. I was too pensive to really notice their presence much less demand they leave. If I had, Hermione might have spent a good while lecturing me on how dangerous it is to turn away the comfort and presence of friends and loved ones one time too many.

I had all my personal effects packed and shrunk into a handful of cartons. The potions ingredients and cauldrons that are too delicate to be modified by magic, I loaded into a pile and asked Hagrid to help me carry them out first thing in the morning. The rest of my belongings were easily transported by the five of us in one trip through the floo. That way no students would see me leaving with my things. I felt it important to leave quietly and keep my dignity. I kept reminding myself that leaving was what I wanted, but it did not help. The circumstances prevented the mantra from offering any immediate comfort.

"He must be really upset since he let us help with all that without yelling at us or anything," Ron said to Harry and Ginny as Hermione and I stepped out of the fireplace and back into the castle after dropping off the last the boxes.

I was happy that Hermione was spending more time with Ron and Ginny. I know she missed her friends, but I still wanted to say something biting just because it was so simple. Then I thought better of it. What would really disconcert Weasley would not be my wit, but something neutral or even kind. He would never expect it.

"I let a lot of you people help me build up my house once it got destroyed, didn't I?" I asked. I fixed him with a stare that said 'well, what do you have to say about that?'

Hermione beamed at me and Harry and Ginny laughed as Ron spluttered unable to think of a response. Sighing I turned away from them and headed to the Great Hall for my last meal at Hogwarts.

The Great Hall was buzzing with the usual chatter found at dinnertime. Since the day was not special, no feast or anything, Minerva had sent word out that everyone was required to be at dinner that evening so that the announcements could be made to as many people as possible. I picked at my food and ignored the chatter around me for the most part. I hoped that at least my face remained neutral. Hermione squeezed my leg under the table.

"Snap out of it, Severus," she hissed. "I know you are feeling awful, but remember you are also standing up for what is right. You have to look like it, as well."

"How am I supposed to look?" I demanded.

"I don't know," she said back hotly. "How about a little more engaged with the people around you? You don't want everyone to think this is the end of the world for you, because it's not."

She was right, but I didn't know how to make her understand that it was still leaving against my own will and that I was going to miss the castle very dearly. There was simply no other way to describe it. I would have been sad on the last day of term. Hermione would see when her last day came. The castle seeped inside those who were lonely, orphaned, and abused. Hermione's natural curiosity about the building and its enchantments would have made her an attractive outlet for the castle's sentience. Many witches and wizards took its bewitching majesty for granted, but she never did. When it was time for her to say goodbye she would feel it as keenly as I.

The evening Prophet showed up during dinner before Minerva could make her announcement. She was quiet throughout the whole meal, but other than that you wouldn't be able to tell there was anything amiss by her behavior. I was quite curious to know what she had discussed with the Governors after I left. Minerva leaned to me with her Prophet folded to the picture of me emerging from the Ministry's courtroom with Draco and Lucius walking behind.

"This is great, really good," she said thumping me on the arm with the paper. "You let those no counts on the Board of Governors know that they can't take away who you are."

Until that point I was avoiding the Prophet. I took Hermione's copy and Rita Skeeter hadn't been the first to report apparently because my quote was in there verbatim without any slanderous or otherwise outrageous intent implied. A quick scan of the Great Hall showed that about half of the students were upset about what I did. The rest looked pleased or uncertain. Many of the students at the Slytherin table looked smug and I didn't like that one bit.

"It seems that we have everyone's attention," Minerva said and stood up. The room quieted.

"I see that many of you have read the read the article about Severus Snape in the Evening Prophet," Minerva held up the paper and waited for general acknowledgement from the room. "Professor Snape's position at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry by the Board of Governors effective immediately, for his role in having Lucius Malfoy's case reheard by the Wizengamot."

The students burst into a flurry of chatter. I continued to sit with my head held high just as I was instructed to do, and in doing the act I felt the effects. As the students chattered I began to feel the indignity of the whole situation wave off of Hermione and Minerva and decided that I would get through it with no regret whatsoever. I had done what I believed in and that was that.

Minerva lifted her hands to silence the room and when she began again her voice was slightly shaky. "For those of you have doubts as to Severus Snape's loyalties rest assured that he is not a Death Eater, and that his actions at the Ministry today were to save a friend from a fate he did not earn and nothing more. Beginning tomorrow, Professor Slughorn will be reinstated as your potions teacher for the remainder of the year. Your permanent replacement will be announced before next term."

Slughorn stood up and bowed. I imagine he was already in the process of deciding how he was going to get his Slug Club going again. Maybe Weasley would finally make it in. Minerva silenced the room once more.

"There will be some more staff changes taking effect at the close of term. Hermione Granger has decided to continue her education at a magical institution of higher learning and I applaud that decision," Minerva turned to Hermione and clapped. The rest of the Great Hall joined in. Hermione blushed and bowed her head graciously. "Finally, I will be retiring as Head of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft of Wizardry at the end of this year as well. Professor Filius Flitwick will take over as Headmaster after me. I would like to thank each of your for all your hard work and the dedication you showed in rebuilding the castle after a very difficult time."

"Why?" one student's voice was heard above the near silence at Minerva's announcement. She was a Gryffindor sixth year and ducked her head when every pair of eyes turned in her direction.

"Why, because I am old," Minerva said smiling. The students laughed hesitantly. "And I want everyone to know that I fully support my staff, and that I would never knowingly place any student in a position where they may be harmed or negatively influenced by any staff member with an agenda. The Board of Governors feels that changes are due at Hogwarts and I am prepared to step aside. I look forward to a life of leisure; I have not had a day off in a very long time. Let us work hard and enjoy the rest of our year."

There was a smattering of applause as Minerva sat back down. The students were surprised, but the members of the Head Table were beyond shocked.

"What are you doing?" I demanded of Minerva as the staff convened in her office shortly after her announcement. "If the Board of Governors and the Ministry are going to interfere at Hogwarts the school needs you here to protect it."

"Thank you, Severus, for your encouragement, but I have decided that you were right all along. The time has come for some of us to move on with our lives and find some other purpose. Professor Flitwick is qualified and prepared to take on the Ministry and the Board if necessary," Minerva said. I started to splutter something in reply but she cut me off. She waved her wand and summoned a few bottles of champagne and glasses. "I would like to propose a couple of toasts."

The dazed staff passed around the drinks and looked expectantly at Minerva. "Here is to Severus Snape, whose loyalty and dedication to this school will be sorely missed. Hogwarts will not be the same without you. To Severus!"

"To Severus," the teachers echoed.

"Here is to Professor Filius Flitwick who I anticipate will make a worthy Headmaster," she raised her glass again.

"To Professor Filius Flitwick!" the staff chorused with more enthusiasm.

Everyone in the room gathered around Minerva, Hermione, Flitwick, and I to offer their congratulations, or in my case, condolences. We all suffered through it for about fifteen minutes before Minerva asked everyone to clear out. I shook hands with the men, hugged the women and promised everyone that I would be nearby and available for drinks, etc., etc. Thankfully no one bothered to ask why I was not fighting the Board's decision. Or, maybe I should not have been grateful because it was an indication that they were happy to see the back side of me. It really didn't matter.

I waited for everyone to leave before I approached the portrait of Albus. Minerva and Hermione stepped out of the office as well. Although I had spoken to the portrait of Albus a handful of times over the previous months I was still ambivalent to the man. I didn't want to forgive him anymore for asking me to kill him, but I really wanted to berate for him so completely unhelpful when I was out of body. Dead or alive, the man remained the same. I supposed I should have applauded his consistency.

"Severus, my boy," Dumbledore greeted me just like old times. "You don't visit."

"Neither do you," I replied swinging Minerva's chair around and sitting down.

Dumbledore smiled and inclined his head.

Neither of them spoke for a while. Finally Dumbledore broke the silence.

"What is on your mind?"

Severus sighed. "I'm not sorry for killing you anymore."

"Good, you have no reason to be. You did me a favor and Draco as well," Dumbledore said. His painted eyes studied Severus. "However unapologetic you are about my demise, you still feel you need to be forgiven, don't you?"

I shrugged. Our conversations always seemed to veer in the same direction.

"It is time for me to go," I meant that in so many more ways than the one obvious one.

"As it should be," Albus said standing up from his painted gilt chair and resting his hands on either side of his frame. He pushed his face as close to the portrait surface as possible. "Leave here. Severus, my dear Severus, my friend. All of the reasons you had to be at Hogwarts are gone now, and all the reasons why you should leave are here still. You have an opportunity to live that life you could have lived years ago if you had made one different decision. And if I didn't know any better, I would say the life you can live now will be a thousand times more fulfilling than any you might have chosen back then, because there is one thing you never would have even if you did not join the Death Eaters."

He looked at me earnestly waiting for me to acknowledge that one thing I could not have ever had. "Lily."

"Lily," he agreed. "Lily was never meant to be yours, and you were never meant to be hers. Sometimes fate has other plans."

I tightened my fingers into fists. Memories that I thought had been long buried and gotten over were rushing to the surface. Not just of Lily, but of all the things that had had some effect on me over the years. There was so much hurt.

"Severus, the Board of Governors may be attempting to make an example out of you, but leave here with your head high. You don't belong here anymore. Remember the robbed man that smiles,"

"Steals something from the thief," I finished for him. "Goodbye my old friend."

"Until another time," Albus said and lifted a hand in farewell.

And that was it. There was nothing left to do but walk out the doors. There was no fanfare or crowd of students by the doors to cheer me or boo me on my way. Only Minerva and Hermione were waiting for me. I preferred it that way. If I returned to the castle again it would be as a visitor, maybe as a parent with a young student. That thought brought a pang of longing to my heart. I reached out and took Hermione by the hand. Her warm palm, soft and real inside of mine was all I needed to find the strength Dumbledore wanted me to find. She was here, and it was because of her that I could let go.

"Shall we walk home?" she asked.

I gripped her hand tighter and the three of us left the castle and walked together to the house in Hogsmeade. It was anticlimactic, just as I had hoped it would be.

Later after Minerva had left, Hermione stood up at the bedroom window peaking out the curtains. She was completely naked and the silhouette of her body shone with narrow strip of moonlight that was glowing through the slit of the fabric she was holding back. She was breathtakingly beautiful.

"The view of the castle really is breathtaking," she said. "Is it going to be hard for you to see it?"

"No, and if I am picturing you like that walking around in there, I will hardly be able to tear my eyes away from it," I said reaching out my hand. "Come away from there."

She walked back to the bed and crawled in next to me. Completely uninhibited in a way that I was going to treasure for many years to come. Hermione leaned over and kissed my throat where I had been bitten. She trailed up my neck and finally nipped at my ear.

"Are you ready for more?" I asked her trailing my hands down her breasts lingering over the peaks of nipples.

"Hmmm," she breathed. Instead of pursuing other parts of my body with her mouth though she leaned her head against my chest.

"Do you really want to look for houses on the sea?"

"Yes," I said without hesitating. With her naked body pressed up against mine she could have whatever she wanted. It almost wasn't fair of her to ask anything of me because I would not have denied her anything.

"Would you want to keep this house as well?"

I felt myself deflating, but I still shifted her further on top of myself before answering. "If you were to continue at Hogwarts I would have wanted to, so I could be nearby. I suppose there is no point to that now though, is there?"

She shifted her hip suggestively against my softening member reawakening it. "I like knowing that you want to be near me."

"Always, let me show you close I want to be." I grabbed her hips and settled her body fully on top of me entering her as I did so. We had never done it like this before with her sitting on me her naked torso in full view for me to explore with my hands and eyes as she rocked on her hips against mine. She leaned her head exposing her white neck. Her long hair fell back and brushed my thighs and I nearly exploded inside of her. I had never been more turned on by her body before. It felt as if the Board of Governors, Hogwarts, and my past were less than memories. They had never existed. The only thing that was real at that moment was Hermione.

Afterwards Hermione lay panting on top of me. I was completely drained. Physically and emotionally. My eyelids started to flutter closed when Hermione whispered sleepily.

"Harry loves this house."

I woke a little bit. "Were you thinking about that the whole time?"

She slapped my chest weakly. "No, just something to think about."

I closed my eyes again. "I only want to think about you."

She may have said something else, but I was already asleep.

**A/N: I know many of you were expecting a big fanfare or bursts of outrage over Severus leaving the school, but that's not the way it goes. Sorry! Next chapter will be up soon and it will be longer, this one was a little short. Thanks to those of you who have reviewed and added this story to your alerts or favorites. I am going to have to start dedicating chapters!**


	39. Something Wicked This Way Comes

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Stealing from Thieves

Something Wicked This Way Comes

I spent the first two days of new found and ill begotten freedom clearing away everything I had brought from the castle. I arranged the basement into a more than serviceable potions laboratory. I considered making a trip to Diagon Alley for ingredients and a book or two, but decided that I did not want to face anyone that knew me, which was everyone, and I especially wanted to avoid people that I might know. Instead I went to a Muggle bookshop and purchased some books that I thought Hermione and I both would like to read. I cooked a couple of meals and literally wandered around the house bumping into things, lost in thought but unable to find something productive to occupy my time.

Hermione had only stopped by briefly because she was busy with work and I missed her. There was a Hogsmeade weekend coming up and she was going to visit with Harry, but I was rambling without her. I wanted her to forget that we were attempting to be secretive and just come home.

On the second evening I decided it was probably time to visit with the Malfoys to see how Lucius was adjusting to home.

When I arrived at the manor significant alterations had been made. Even the outside shone with a sort of newness like it had been freshly scrubbed. The albino peacocks were strutting around in a garden cleared of snow and spelled green. The privet bushes lining the house were trimmed and flowerbeds surrounded the gazebo in the back garden. There was not a hint of the winter that lay outside the Manor's gates. It was typical of Narcissa to want summer all year long. The Ministry watchdog assigned to the family for the day was standing alert by the front gate.

"No press!" he shouted with his wand out as I approached. When he saw who it was he put the wand in its holster. "Sorry, but the bloody news people have been an absolute nightmare."

I made no reply to that. "Am I allowed in?"

"Yes, but I need to go over the rules with you. Let's see, they can't leave the property and I would not bother trying to magic them out because it would not be worth it to them or you, I guarantee, and I guess that's about it," he said standing up a little straighter in a feeble attempt to be more menacing. I tried to place his face considering I had taught every student that walked through the front doors of Hogwarts over the last eighteen years.

"John Finley, Hufflepuff," I said. "From what I can recall not much of a potion maker."

He puffed up even further. "I do all right for myself."

"I never said you didn't," I commented walking away. I understand that I had called many a student any manner of name that referred to substandard intelligence over the years, but they only confirmed their idiocy by acting as if being successful in potions was the end all to a successful career. At the end of the day I could care less if they learned potions, or even liked them. It was the select few that were either talented or determined that caught my attention.

Draco opened the door just as I came to it. Another Auror inside glanced my way and then went back to the book he was reading.

"I see they have sent you babysitters now that your father is here." I took off my cloak and Draco hung it for me. I was unaccustomed to seeing him act as host and servant, but found it pleasant to see that he could do both.

Draco glanced at the Auror and shrugged. "I hardly notice them to be honest. They were helpful in keeping the reporters away yesterday."

"Who manicured the grounds?" I asked to make conversation as we walked through the house. It was clean and polished just as I remembered it from the days when Dobby was in service. There was no evidence that Voldemort had once ruled there or that people had died or been tortured beneath its roof. Draco led me to the dining room where Narcissa and Malfoy were seated side by side at a newer smaller table. The room had been completely redone in lush greens and gold. There were long velvet curtains lashed to the sides of the windows with golden tasseled cords. There was long Oriental rug underneath the round mahogany table and the chandelier that Dobby once loosed on Bellatrix and Hermione was replaced with a much more simple and elegant crystal hanging candelabra. The effect was exactly the opposite of what it had been less than two years previously. It was not longer stony and cold, but warm, rich, and inviting.

"I did the grounds and most of the work in the house." Draco gestured around him clearly proud of what he had done. "Mother helped a lot as well. We both had to read some books on maintenance spells and housekeeping, but we actually had fun."

Narcissa smiled warmly and reached her hand out to me. She looked much healthier with her family back together.

"Severus," she said grasping my hand. "Welcome."

I kissed her hand and nodded. I knew she was saying thank you. Lucius stood up and shook my hand. He too looked better after only two days out of prison. His color was considerably restored even if he did still look half starved and exhausted. His clothes were fitted only exacerbating how gaunt his frame had become. His hair had been restored to its natural color with the green tinge of the ocean washed away, but there were streaks of grey in it that were never there before.

"You both look well," I commented. When I sat down Draco left the room and returned with a large tray balanced precariously on the tip of his wand. "What is this?"

"Its supper," he said pulling the large silver dome covering the tray away. "Roast beef, buttered greens, roast potatoes, and red wine jus. Since we're not allowed help in the house I've learned to cook as well. It is a bit like potion making. One little mistake and a whole recipe can go awry."

"It is a lot like potions," I said.

After we were all served I could not help but comment on how good the meal was.

"This is very nice."

"Draco has risen to the occasion regarding both domestic and business matters," Narcissa said. "Not only has he been teaching himself to cook and clean, he is contacting many of Lucius's old investment associates and attempting to restore some accounts that were lost during the war."

Lucius nodded.

"And if you do not succeed in rekindling your investment firm?" I asked.

Lucius took a long drink of his wine still savoring after all his time consuming little more than saltwater in Azkaban. "I have high hopes. I am going to branch out and learn more about Muggle trading so that I can be of service to witches and wizards with Muggle or mixed parentage who are looking for investment opportunities that can be transferred from one realm to the next."

"That is very ambitious," I said slowly actually admiring the idea.

"And if I don't succeed," Lucius continued. "Well, we have a lot of money still. I could retire now and live out the rest of my life in more than comfortable conditions."

Lucius looked happier than I had seen him in years. I truly believed that with enough damage control for his past deeds his ideas could work. Draco's face on the campaign would work considerably in his favor. I said as much.

"I rather agree," Draco commented. "I never really thought that the family business would be something I would want for myself, but I am finding that I enjoy it. Father and Mother will be free of house arrest in a year's time and I plan to use it to learn as much from them as I can."

Narcissa smiled proudly and patted her son's hand. Whatever faults the Malfoy's had their sense of family and loyalty could teach many a lesson. The conversation slowly drifted towards my dismissal from Hogwarts.

"I never intended for you to get sacked over me," Lucius told me over a glass of scotch in his study. Draco had joined us and Narcissa had retired for the evening.

I tipped back my own glass. I had been drinking a lot of scotch lately I thought wryly. "I never asked your opinion."

"Of course not," Lucius said. "That would not be your style would it? The Prophet said there was little commotion at the school over your dismissal."

"No, it was an understated affair. I never expected protesters in the streets," I said finishing off my drink. "With Minerva leaving as well there is enough other drama for those who care to focus on."

"I heard Granger was quitting too," Draco said. I had intentionally not mentioned her. Lucius raised his eyebrows ever so slightly.

"Yes," I said carefully. "She is going to further her magical education."

"Good." Draco offered to refill his father's glass, but Lucius covered the top with his palm.

"Why this sudden interest in the Granger girl, Draco? This is not the first time you have mentioned her."

"We have become acquaintances," Draco said boldly. "She befriended when no others would and saved our lives more than once if you recall. We are attempting to let bygones be bygones. It would not go amiss for us to have her as an ally either."

Lucius looked at his son warily. As much as he probably wanted a woman for his son to take over the new domestic responsibilities, a Muggle born would not be on the top of his list anytime soon, no matter how strong his determination to be open-minded.

Draco seemed to read his father's train of thought as well. "I'm not falling in love with her if that is what you are worried about. Although, a man could do a lot worse, right Severus?"

"Much worse," I admitted in a tone that I hoped would close the subject. The damage was done however. Lucius put the pieces together in his mind and turned a stony gaze in my direction.

"Now really," Lucius grated. "You can't be serious. She is almost half your age, a Mud- Muggle-born, Potter's best friend, and one of your students."

"She is no longer a student." I felt dumb because there was nothing else I could say to refute his other claims. They were all true, irrelevant, but still true.

"Are you entertaining the idea of courting this girl?" he asked incredulously.

I felt my ire rising. "I have entertained the idea and then some although I do not care to discuss it with you. I am not seeking your blessing."

"Severus," Lucius said shaking head. "There are so many women out there who would have you."

"Father," Draco admonished sensing my mood shifting. "We have to accept how things are and how things are going to be in the future. Hermione is my friend now as well, and while I won't parade her under your nose, I will expect you to be civil should I invite her around, especially if she is with him."

"Might I add, civility is the least you could do even if she chose not to be civil with you," I said.

"So you discuss us, do you?" Lucius said, his own temper rising. "Do you have a good laugh at our expense?"

"Of course not," I snapped. "Do not lose your composure. She is far too tactful and mature to comment on you when she knows what your family is to me. She is fully aware of what Narcissa did for Harry Potter and is infinitely grateful and would probably tell you so herself if you ever gave her the opportunity. She is far too trusting in the fundamental goodness of mankind and the strength of friendships to assume that you would step over me to harm her. It is probably her only fault, and not quite such a horrible one to have."

Lucius sniffed reproachfully and said nothing.

"I would appreciate your discretion on this matter," I said warningly.

Lucius waved me off dismissively. "You have it."

I excused myself shortly after and went home. I stuck my head in the floo and called for Hermione's rooms at the castle hoping I would catch her. She was sitting in front of her fireplace with a stack of essays perched precariously on one knee while she scribbled on them. Her other hand was absentmindedly stroking her gigantic ginger cat. When my head popped up in the fire she screamed and dropped everything. Her wand was trained at the fireplace with the reflexes and skill only battle worn veterans had.

"Only me," I said laughing.

"You terrified me!" She bent down on her knees so she could be more at my level. "Why don't you come all the way through? This is terribly uncomfortable."

"Tempting, but I should probably stay away from the castle for awhile. I just wanted to tell you about my evening," I said and proceeded to describe to her my evening at the Malfoy's.

In the end she shrugged her shoulders and tossed back her hair. "Well, that's that then. At least you have a friend who knows. My friends have not exactly been thrilled either, but they are coming around."

"If I had to choose, I would choose you," I said wishing I could kiss her without burning off her face.

"Let's hope it does not come to that. It sounds like Draco would not let that happen," she said.

"Probably not. I will go so you can get back to work. See you Saturday?" I was feeling better, but lonelier at the same time. I had to find my own way to happiness. That was my albatross and I did not want Hermione to know that I was feeling her absence and the absence of my old profession so keenly.

"I can't wait," she said blowing me a kiss. I stood up and stretched my aching knees. It wasn't late, but I went to bed anyway and spent a better part of the next two days sleeping. It was exactly what I needed. By Saturday I was feeling refreshed. I'd had a few days of dreamless sleep and uninterrupted peace and I was ready to make plans for my future.

I was feeling so good I was even willing to meet Hermione and Harry in Hogsmeade for a butter beer instead of having them meet me at the house. I arrived at the Hogs Head early to say hello to Aberforth and have a pub breakfast before moving on to the Three Broomsticks.

"Mornin'," Aberforth said wiping down a spot at the bar with a dirty rag for me. Soon I had a greasy full English breakfast sitting in front of me. It was perfect. Aberforth didn't say anything which was exactly his way. It was clear whenever you were around him why nobody really counted Aberforth. We passed small talk for about a half hour before the bleating of one of Aberforth's goats alerted us to another entering patron.

"Severus Snape," Septima Vector exclaimed upon seeing me. "He walks in daylight even without the protection of the castle."

"I would ask where you left your broom, but I always forget that accusing you of being a witch is supposed to be a compliment," I replied. It was good to see her. As fellow Slytherins we spent far too little time in each other's company.

She heaved a stack of parchment that she had tucked under her arm onto the table. She gave them a solid thump with her fist. "Calculations for the next generation of Hogwarts babies right here."

"Is it that time of the month already?"

"Very funny," she replied flipping over the top page on the stack. Each month Vector ran calculations on the pool of potentially magical children in the UK that Hogwarts was alerted of. The system was quite complex and woven together by no small amount of spells that kept track of the magical potential of just about every child born in the United Kingdom, and the arithmantic calculations Vector did helped to predict which children would still be around for school and located children born outside of the UK who might be coming in the future. It was an elaborate guesswork that was accurate enough to keep the school running efficiently with few surprises in its enrollment from year to year.

I nursed a cup of coffee while Vector pored over her calculations with one hand and ate her own full English with the other. After awhile she whistled and laughed.

"Now there is a child with a lifetime of burden ahead of him," she said.

"Sorry?" I asked.

She pushed a sheet in front of me. "Cleomenes. That's a heavy moniker if I ever heard one."

Septima pulled the parchment back towards herself but I reached out and snatched it from her hand. The name rang a bell somewhere in my memory.

"Hey!" she said.

I scanned the sheet looking for confirmation. There it was about halfway down the sheet.

Date of birth, 25 December 1998. Name, Cleomenes Wilkins, born in Melbourne, Australia. Hermione's little brother was magical as well. I relinquished the sheet to an impatient Vector.

"Problem?" she asked.

I looked at her in confusion for a moment before answering. "No. No, actually I think this is a solution to one instead."

"What are you talking about?" she asked.

"Nothing. I need to be off now," I said. I paid Aberforth and left. It was far too early to meet Hermione and Harry, but I was hoping I would see her in the streets. This news was far too big to keep inside. If she knew that her little brother was also magical and was listed for Hogwarts, then she owed it to her parents to restore their memories. Clearly they were on their way back to England at some point in the future if their unfortunately named son was going to Hogwarts. It very well could be Hermione's influence that set the ball in motion.

I was able to catch Hermione at the Hogsmeade location of Scrivenshaft's. She always seemed to need more quills and ink. I met her at the counter just as soon as she was going to pay for her purchases. I pulled a couple galleons out of my pocket and plunked them down on the counter before she could.

"No thank you, I can pay for my—," she stopped talking when she turned around and saw me. "Severus!"

I pushed the galleons towards the confused salesclerk. "Allow me."

"All right," she said. I gathered her bag and led her out the door.

"Where's Harry?" I asked.

"He will meet us later at the Three Broomsticks. What's going on? You seem agitated," she said taking the bag from me and putting into a small handbag similar to her beaded on with the extendable charm. "Thanks for getting this for me."

"It's the least I can do. I'm not agitated, but I do have some news that I really don't want to wait on." I practically dragged her to the back of Scrivenshaft's and Apparated into my house with her.

"What's going on?" she said immediately.

I pulled her to me and hugged her and kissed her before answering. We both sighed in pleasure before she pulled away.

"Now that's taken care of so spill," she demanded.

I sat down on my sofa and pulled her with me. "I just found out from Professor Vector that your little brother has manifested magic and that her calculations show that he might attend Hogwarts in the future."

"My little brother?" Hermione said astonished. "He's only got to be two or three months old!"

"Not even two. He was born on Christmas day. Nevertheless he was on the list and you have to restore your parents' memories, Hermione."

Hermione sat facing the fireplace chewing on her bottom lip.

"Think about how difficult it was for your parents to watch you grow up not understanding what it was that made you so different, what made it so difficult for you to fit in when you were a child," I pressured. "You could spare them and your little brother some of that pain by being there to support him. I know you want to see him grow up."

"My parents were relieved when I got my letter because it was an explanation," Hermione mused. "I had already agreed to go to Australia hadn't I?"

"Yes, but this means you ought to strengthen your resolve to restore their memories," I said.

Hermione looked at me with a slightly angry glint in her eye. "I know I should, and I want to. I will, but I don't understand why you keep bringing it up. I'm the one who could potentially get hurt and I don't want to think about it until I absolutely have to."

"It was not my intention to remind you of the risks." I took her hand and stroked her palm with my thumb attempting to calm her with my touch. I felt her relax slightly. "I truly believe, Hermione, that the risks will be very minimal. Hasn't everything this year happened in an unexaggerated fashion? My return from the dead, catching rogue Death Eaters, freeing Lucius, and getting sacked, it has all happened with minimal fanfare. Perhaps going back to Australia will simply be part of the trend."

"Possibly," she acknowledged.

We spent the rest of the time before we were to meet Harry talking of our trip.

"Why planes?" Hermione asked right as we were leaving to meet with Harry at the Three Broomsticks. "I thought you did not like them, and it is much faster to use a Portkey."

"International Portkeys are nauseating in their own way. I don't know why I bought tickets. I suppose it is because you flew that way the last time you went, and if we are going to restore your parents' memories we should probably bombard them with as little magic as possible so they can reacclimatize."

"Hm, that's oddly thoughtful."

At the Three Broomsticks I was greeted by a few students and Professor Slughorn. He was clearly trying to recruit Harry back into the Slug Club. Ron seemed pleased which could only mean that he'd finally made it in. Harry was ignoring Slughorn. He seemed to be watching Ginny Weasley closely. She was seated at another table nearby with Michael Corner.

Nobody seemed particularly shocked that I was meeting with Hermione. I supposed her status as a Professor was complete enough that people did not really think twice of our acquaintance. Or, they suspected we were together and truly did not care. Once were all seated and people stopped coming by the table to say hello Hermione told Harry about her little brother.

"Well, that's really good isn't it? Not only do you have a brother now, but he is magical as well," Harry exclaimed. "I would be chuffed if it was me."

"I suppose I am happy about it," she said thoughtfully. "Oh! In all this excitement I nearly forgot. I have to leave right after lunch because I have a couple of detentions to administer."

"Really? Who?" I asked.

"A couple of Slytherin fourth years who feel they don't need to do their homework because I am not qualified to teach," Hermione said testily. "We'll see who is qualified to teach after they spend an afternoon scrubbing the castle the Muggle way, including the dishes and the kitchens. I already arranged it with Filch and the house elves."

Harry laughed. "I wouldn't want to miss that."

Hermione laughed as well. "I don't plan on it."

It was a good thing I was not at the school to discipline those Slytherins myself, really though I was disappointed that Hermione was going to be leaving so soon, but perhaps it was a good thing. If people were nonchalant about us having a meal together they may not be quite so if it lingered into the afternoon. When Hermione did leave Harry was still distracted by Ginny and he barely noticed his friend go.

"You know, Potter, Ginny does have red hair like your mother did, but that is really where the similarities end."

Harry looked at me slightly confused, but more hopeful that perhaps I was going to tell him more about his mother at last.

"For instance," I continued. "Ginny is shorter, spunkier, and more athletic, has brown eyes instead of green, and really does not look the same. I can understand why you feel awkward about the whole situation, but they really are two different people."

"In what other ways are they different?" he asked.

"Your mother was not much into Quidditch. It never really mattered to her that your father played. She was really good at potions, but only because I spent so much time teaching her. She was more like Hermione academically. Her curiosity about the magical world could never be satisfied. I don't know Ginny Weasley very well, but if you find yourself missing her, it really can't have anything to do with Ginny reminding you of your mother can it? You never knew her." I finished off my butter beer and replaced it with a stronger stout.

Harry tore his eyes off of Ginny. "Do you ever wonder if you had done as my mother wanted and left your friends if she would have wanted to be with you?"

"All the time," I admitted. "But she was not very forgiving of some of my other transgressions."

"I don't know if Ginny would forgive me," Harry said.

"There is only one to find out," I replied.

Ginny caught Harry looking at her and held his gaze for a moment. She shifted her eyes to mine and then back to her date's.

"Would you have asked her? My mother, I mean. If you had the opportunity to ask her if things could have been different, would you?"

"Maybe in the past, but now it seems dishonest to Hermione a little doesn't it?"

"Who knows? I still have not figured out what is honest or not. I say something one day and mean something else the next. Does that make me a liar?" he asked with intensity.

"It certainly makes you fickle," I responded a little worried.

"Can we go to your house? I want to show you something." Harry stood up and began walking out of the pub. I left some coins on the table and followed him out. It had begun to snow since we went in and I was chilled thoroughly by the time we were back at my house.

Once we were inside I lit a fire and warmed my hands.

"What is it, Potter?"

"Did you hate my father only because he got Lily in the end?" Harry asked.

"No. I hated him because he taunted me and made my life at school miserable. Getting Lily was only a small part of his wickedness that hurt me," I said honestly.

Harry stared into the fire. "My father wasn't evil. At least not evil in the way I always understood it. Like Voldemort evil."

"Evil is a very difficult and convoluted subject, Harry. Nobody really understands it."

"My mother thought she was able to detect evil in you, but I reckon you aren't evil at all and never really were," Harry stated.

"Lily's one true fault was misunderstanding evil, same as how I think you are now. Evil's origins are unknowable. She seemed to that I was evil, or potentially so, because my friends openly supported less than ethical ideas, but is it any less evil to be a bully and treat others as if they are meaningless and then claim that you are only good? Just as there are two sides to every coin no one can be all good or all bad."

Harry did not seem reassured. "Sirius told me the same thing after I saw my father taunting you during that Occlumency lesson back in fifth year."

I remembered that day well. The shame I had felt that day was unmatched by any other experience I had with Potter including the memories I gave him when Nagini bit me.

"Harry, if you try to examine right and wrong you meddle with their normal delicate balance. I read somewhere that it is similar to trying to see a dragon while it is still in its egg. You can't unless you crack the shell, and then it is no longer a dragon inside an egg. Once you attempt to truly see good and evil it is exposed and it changes according to the situation you put it in," I offered. "You are not still concerned that a little of Voldemort is in you making you evil?"

Harry rubbed absentmindedly at the scar on his head. "No. My questions have more to do with power than evil. Unless you can't have one without the other."

"Albus Dumbledore was powerful," I remarked.

"Yeah, and he kept a lot of nasty evil secrets," Harry retorted.

That I could not argue with.

"I said I wanted to show you something." Harry reached into the cloak he was still wearing and pulled out a bundle of cloth like woven water. I recognized his invisibility cloak instantly. He unrolled it revealing the Elder Wand, Dumbledore's wand. With a final flourish he pulled a stone out of his pocket. It was square and black with a crack in it. The last time I had seen that stone was in a ring that I was barely able to save Dumbledore from. Harry dropped the stone on the cloak next to the wand.

"How did you get this?" I asked.

"Easy, I remembered where I dropped it in the forest and went and did a summoning charm. It flew right into my hand. I know I promised everyone that I would leave it lost, but something compelled me."

"No, Potter, I have no idea what you are talking about. How did you come by it in the first place? That stone was in the ring that cursed Dumbledore," I said.

"You really don't know?" Harry asked.

I shook my head. Apparently I hadn't learned all there was to know about the way the war ended. Harry told me the entire tale of receiving the snitch and figuring out how to open it after seeing my memories and having those last words with his family.

I touched the Resurrection Stone with the tip of my finger and then drew away as if shocked.

"And the wand?" I said my voice cracking.

"I put it behind Dumbledore's portrait after the battle. I took it out a couple of days ago. Technically it belongs to me."

I had to sit down. In front of me was the Deathly Hallows. The fabled Deathly Hallows that Voldemort believed in but I really didn't and Dumbledore never once mentioned. It was useless getting angry with a dead man, but even from beyond the grave he never ceased to annoy.

"You quite literally are the most powerful wizard," I said to Harry.

"That is what worries me. I swore I would never put these things together again because I don't have a desire to vanquish death. I don't want eternal glory or to raise the dead, but I still dug out the wand and the stone," Harry replied with more than a touch of fear in his voice. He was still afraid of himself after all this time.

"If you have been able to resist the temptation to use them, then I do not see what the problem is," I answered.

"For how long do I resist? Could you resist? If I handed you this," he picked up the stone. "And told you that my mother would come and answer any questions you had for her, could you resist?"

I said nothing.

"If you could wear this cloak and take this wand and exact revenge on any person still living that might have wronged you, would you?"

"I would no more do it than you would."

"I like the feeling of power owning these objects gives me and I don't like that about myself." Harry took the wand and stone and placed them on the coffee table. "Take these. I want you to have them. Only I wouldn't tell anyone about them. I reckon there are still plenty of people who would kill for them."

He was absolutely correct about that. Unfortunately Harry didn't understand what that Resurrection Stone was to me. Was Death trying to find a new way to communicate with me? I thought I was done with all that.

"What do you want me to do with them?"

"Lose them, use them, burn them, I don't care. Just don't let me see them again," Harry said and gathered up his cloak and left. I was beginning to think that perhaps Potter was becoming a little unhinged.

I sat staring at the wand and stone for a good long while thinking of all the things I had to say to the many dead people I knew. I even had a brief fantasy of bringing back Voldemort just so I could give him a good telling off and then kill him again. Naturally my mind drifted to Lily and what Harry had said earlier. Did I still want to know if there had ever been a chance? The obvious answer was no, but a part of me did find it compelling to hear the answer from her own lips. I wanted to demand honesty of her once and for all. It would not have been fair to Hermione either. The answer would not have any effect on my life because Lily was still gone and I loved Hermione with all my heart. Still I looked at the stone for a long time and kept coming back to it throughout the night until finally I could stand it no longer and I picked the stone up.

**A/N: I am so sorry I didn't respond to reviews last chapter. I adore them all even when I don't get a chance to reply. This chapter is dedicated to Severus49 who pretty consistently reviews every chapter and I love it! Sorry if the editing on this chapter is worse than usual. I really wanted to get it out before there was too much of a delay. **


	40. Such Parting Breaks the Heart

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Stealing From Thieves

Such Parting Breaks the Heart They Fondly Hope to Heal

The stone was cold and heavier than I would have expected. Directly through the center was the crack I was already familiar with, splitting the symbol on it that I had never really given much thought to. The wand lay on the table, absolutely menacing even in the absence of a wielder. For it was because of that wand's existence Voldemort sent Nagini on me in the first place. I turned my back on the wand and leaned my forehead against the mantelpiece as I considered the implications of the stone. Of course Harry was right; there were scores of dead people I would love to have one last conversation with. Would I use it though? A part of me feared that if I used it Death himself would appear. I could imagine the conversation going something like this:

Death: See, I knew you couldn't stay away.

Me: No, wait! That's not what I meant about using the stone!

Death: If you want to talk to dead people so badly then come with me. I don't know why I let you live in the first place.

Me: AAAAHHHH! I am so misunderstood!

No, not really. Of course there would be no such juvenile conversation, but the truth was that I was more terrified of dying now that I had so many reasons to live. I spent a few more moments despairing over the stone and who I would summon and what I would say. Harry assumed it would be Lily. Probably anyone would. Were they right? Was it still Lily that plagued me after all these years? If I wanted to see Lily one last time would that be a betrayal to Hermione? Yes. Every fiber of my being insisted that Hermione deserved all of me, and if I still wanted to see Lily one more time I was giving her only the bits of me that Lily still was not a part of. Dumbledore had as good as told me that Lily admitted to him that we would never have had a chance to be more than friends even if I did leave the Death Eaters. Did I really need to hear it from her? Was there any other person gone from my life I would like to see one more time besides her? I wondered what would happen if I blocked out thoughts of everyone, but just turned the stone. Would it be sort of like a Mirror of Erised and show me who I truly desired to see and not who I thought I wanted?

And then there was Death again. Would Death be angry that I would so carelessly summon a simulacrum? Any normal person would not fear Death in my situation, but I had been too close once before and I could not help but wish that Harry had left the Invisibility Cloak as well. Hoping Death had a sense of humor I turned the stone one time. Then a second time, and as I moved to turn the stone a third time Hermione rushed through the fireplace knocking me back and the stone out of my hand.

"Severus is Har-," Hermione began, but stopped talking and backed away from the fireplace when she saw the smoky figure beginning to emerge out of the stone and take shape before us. "Severus, what is that?"

Hermione picked up the stone before I could and examined it carefully.

Hermione gasped. "I had never actually seen this because it was in the snitch the whole time we were hunting Horcruxes last year. This is clearly the mark of the Deathly Hallows. Severus, where did you find this?"

"Harry," I said a little angrily. I was not sure if I was angry because she interrupted me and stopped the stone from working, or what, but I felt my temper rise a degree. "Harry gave it to me along with the Elder Wand."

"Harry said he lost this in the forest." Hermione held the stone up accusingly as if I was the one who had retrieved it and with nefarious intentions at that. "And furthermore, why would you want the very wand that almost got you killed in the first place? That belongs with Dumbledore's portrait, or better yet, destroyed."

"Destroyed?" I cried. "You cannot destroy a relic just like that!" I snapped my fingers.

Hermione set her jaw. "It's wrong to bring the Hallows back together again, and dangerous."

"Go have this conversation with Harry, Hermione. He is the one who could not resist reuniting them." I picked up the Elder Wand as I saw Hermione reach for it. I was not going to let her have it if destroying it was on her mind. She was right, they were dangerous and if word got out they were intact and could easily brought together many treacherous minds would do harm no less evil than Voldemort's to master them. I was not one of those minds and neither was Harry, and Hermione's sanctimonious attitude only made feel like she thought I was one.

"I can't find Harry. That is why I am here because Minerva wants to see him. I thought he might still be here," Hermione said and then she looked at the stone still in her hand really carefully. Her eyebrows narrowed in suspicion and her eyes darkened slightly with anger, or if I didn't know better, jealousy.

"You were about to use this weren't you," she said quietly and carefully, enunciating every sharp consonant, a sure signal that her temper was barely in check.

I swallowed thickly and met her eyes. I let the truth show even if I would not say it out loud.

"Why?" she demanded. "It is supposed to be really difficult for the dead to come back to this world, and even then they won't really be here for you. Who do you need to see so badly you would do that to yourself and to them?" Hermione stared at me incredulously and then her expression switched back to hurt and frustration. "I know, how silly of me. It's all Harry can talk about, you and his mother. You would want to see Lily again."

"That's not necessarily true," I told her reaching for the stone, but she clenched her fist around it and pulled it out of my reach. "Hermione, hand it over."

I could see that I was right about the jealousy earlier. There was more than a hint of it on her face now. It made me feel strangely exhilarated to see that she could get jealous too. It still didn't erase my anger at being interrupted at such a moment, and then having the stone taken from me. We stared each other down, me with the wand in my left hand and the other stretched out towards her. She glared back with both of her fists clenched, the stone in one of them.

"No. I mean why should I let you? Why can't you let her go?"

"Did I say I was going to summon Lily back?" I snapped back at her. "What would it matter anyway? You kindly pointed out already that she is dead and doesn't belong here anyway. Not that her being alive would make her belong here either."

Hermione looked slightly more chastised, but she held her ground. Clearly this was a fight she had wanted to have for some time. We had already discussed this several times and it seemed my like my words did nothing to appease her, only my actions. As long as I acted as if Lily did not matter anymore she was all right. This one action, of using the stone, was far too much for her. I could have the memory of loving Lily so long as I did not want to see her again. I did not necessarily disagree with Hermione; after all there were those little bits of me that I would be holding back if I did want to see Lily again.

"You didn't say," Hermione admitted testily. "I only assumed, and spare me the lecture on assuming. You can hardly blame me if I get upset about her sometimes. I can't possibly compete against someone who lives in your fantasies. It's not the same for me as it would be for you if I still loved Ron, or had ever really loved him in that way, because at least you can see what you are up against."

"Spare me, Hermione. I don't know how many times I am going to have to tell you that it is you that I want. Didn't I say I wanted to marry you and have a family with you, and do all the things people do in their miserable little lives with you by my side?" I grabbed for hand and wrenched the stone free and held it up for her to see. "This doesn't change any of that!"

"Who then?"

I shook my head. "I can't tell you."

Hermione rolled her eyes and grabbed a handful of floo powder from the pot on the mantelpiece. "Fine then. Keep your secrets."

I wanted her to leave because then I could use the stone in peace, but I did not want to let her go back to the castle in a snit when I knew it would be days before I could see her again. The fight would either fester or fade, and I had a feeling this one would fester if I let her go without giving something up.

"I can't tell you because I don't know. I was trying to let the stone decide."

That stopped her. She looked at me curiously. "What do you mean exactly?"

"I was wondering if the stone worked in a similar way to the Mirror of Erised."

I could not read her expression, there seemed to be too many thoughts passing through her mind at once.

"Don't you wonder about who you could recall?" I asked her.

"No, not at all," she said with confidence. "It is the cloak I prefer."

"Naturally, you are sensible to the last," I said with more than a little spite. "Was there ever a time you allowed you heart to rule over your head?"

"Yes and the evidence of it is standing right in front of me! Besides you are one too talk!"

"Are we finished here yet?" I asked coldly.

Hermione recoiled as if I had struck her.

"Finished?"

"With this argument, Hermione." I sat down in exasperation and pinched the bridge of my nose where my tension headaches develop. "You are attacking me because you are afraid the stone will bring back Lily that much is clear. Why you do not trust me remains a little murky. Have I perhaps done something to earn your mistrust?"

Hermione remained still and silent for so long I truly believed she was searching her memory for any point in history that might prove her lack of trust was justified. The clock on the wall ticked loudly in the strange silence. The setting sun streamed through my western window and I stared at the dust motes floating in the air. I placed the Elder Wand back on the coffee table in front of me. After what felt like an eternity Hermione finally spoke.

"No." She stepped out of the fireplace and let the floo powder fall from her hand back into the pot without looking at me. After dusting her hands clean she came and sat next to me on the couch. "I don't like admitting how insecure your old love for Lily makes me feel."

"I am sure my insecurities far outstrip yours," I told her even though I was not yet ready to forgive her for the argument.

"Can I stay while you use the stone?" she asked. She was staring straight ahead of her as if looking at me at that moment was too difficult.

"Hermione, I am not sure that is wise." I unclenched my fingers around the stone and examined it carefully. It was such a small thing, yet capable of doing so much hurt. It was like a word, insignificant on the surface, but used at the right time and in the right circumstances, a single word could destroy the foundations of a person's life. One day I said the word Mudblood to somebody and it ended something that I thought was very special and unbreakable. If I told Hermione 'no' or to 'leave' I feared I would do the same thing all over again. Our relationship was strong, but what if we weren't the iceberg? What if it was the Titanic? It felt like a test of my devotion to her. I know now that in committed relationships everyday tests you one way or another, but that one was especially difficult.

"Are you afraid of what you will see?" she asked.

"Terrified." I held the stone out to her. "Take it. You were right; I should not be playing with toys that belong to Death."

"No. I think you should do it now. Whatever sick reasons we both have for our curiosity you should do it." She finally turned to look at me and her eyes were hard and cold. The only other times I had seen her look so fierce was when she was frightened and fighting. It was as if she had blocked the warmer part of herself so that it might not be affected by whatever horror was in store for her. It was an admirable trait.

I stood up and walked around the coffee table so that I would have more room and some distance from Hermione. "If I do this, and the stone decides, you cannot hold me accountable for the choices it makes."

"Harry said when he used the stone he was thinking about all the people that loved him that were dead. Sirius and Remus came as well his parents. If you ask the stone to show you your true heart's desire, it probably will." Hermione's voice was more teacher-like, but there was still that hint of coldness within it. "Severus, whatever happens I love you, I just have to know. I have done worse things in my life to satisfy a need to know things about you. At least I am being forward about it this time."

She had stolen the memories I gave to Potter when Nagini attacked me. It still put me off that she thought I did not share with her. "I tell you how I feel about you."

"Yes, but you hold back when it comes to your feelings about everything else. I try to read your emotions in your face which sometimes looks like it is carved from stone, and I want to know more about you than what I have already inadvertently learned. I see you get angry, and happy, and sad, but you don't talk to me you just act."

"I answer all your questions, don't I?" I was nonplussed.

Hermione sighed. "Yes, but I don't think I am asking the right questions."

"I did not know there were wrong questions. I thought that I had gone to great lengths to show you that I am not the man you knew before the war, that I am a kinder, gentler person than that," I said.

"How did you get that way?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know, Hermione. Maybe there are no good questions." I held the stone up. "You really want to stay?"

"Yes," she admitted firmly.

"Fine." I looked her directly in the eyes. "Then know that you are staying against my wishes. I will not explain anything you see or hear if I don't want to because this was meant to be private."

Once again I closed my eyes and willed the stone to bring back whomever I desired to see the most. I had to force myself not to ask the stone to keep Lily away if it would spare Hermione's feelings, but she'd asked for it. If she wanted openness and honesty then she would have it. I turned the stone over in my hand three times before I could lose my resolve. After the third turn the stone grew so cold I could not hold it anymore. I let it drop to the floor and as soon as I did a figure more substantial than a ghost, but still not quite whole in body rose up from the floor.

My hands shook as the figure grew and Lily Potter stood before me. I could feel tears welling up in my throat. All those years of loving her and missing her came flooding back in a deluge of emotions that I could not hide and would surely send Hermione away from me forever if I could not master them, and I didn't. I let the emotions come and then they passed almost as quickly. It could not have been more than half a minute since Lily appeared and the worst of the pain had already left. There was something I wanted to say to her, but it had only occurred to me after seeing her again.

Hermione was struggling with her own emotions. Tears were falling from her eyes, but her face remained a stony mask of cold indifference. She stood from the couch and returned to the pot of floo powder on the mantelpiece.

"Hermione wait!" Lily cried. Her green eyes were pleading. "I know this is hard for you, but I did not come for Severus. I came for you."

Lily's comment hurt, but not in the way it may have a year or two previously. That was progress.

Hermione wiped her eyes before turning around to face Lily. "Me?"

"Of course," she said stepping towards Hermione and stretching out a hand that would never make contact. "You take care of my son."

Hermione allowed herself to take a small step towards Lily. "I love Harry."

Lily smiled in that warm smile that always made my heart melt. Her eyes were so much like Harry's. "I know you do and he loves you as well. He has you on a pedestal. Most boys hold every woman that comes into their lives up against their mothers for comparison, but Harry's standard is you."

Hermione gulped audibly holding back her tears. "You are Severus's."

Lily finally turned and looked at me. I had no voice.

"Maybe once," Lily said looking deep inside of me. "Not anymore. I am so happy you finally found her, Severus. We all knew it was going to happen someday."

"Even if he had left the Death Eaters?" Hermione asked the question that she was afraid I would ask if given the opportunity. I found myself not wanting to hear the answer from Lily's lips.

I stepped to Hermione and put my arm around her. "No Hermione. Even if I became James's best friend instead, he still would have been the one to have Lily."

"Thank you, Severus. It breaks my heart that you held onto those memories of me for all those years. You did not need my memory, or whatever remained of your love for me to make the decisions you made. I know you would have realized sooner or later that Voldemort would do nothing but cause pain," Lily said.

"I did it for Harry, as well," I said tightening my grip on Hermione when I felt her try to pull away. "I have grown very fond of him."

"I know," Lily said. "I mustn't stay. There is another who was meant to come. I seized this opening only to see Hermione."

"Thank you," Hermione whispered.

"No, my dear girl, thank you," Lily said and disappeared leaving nothing but a cloud of dust in her wake. It was only a moment before another woman materialized before me. My eyes filled with uncontrollable tears and the emotions that filled me were so much more than the ones evoked my Lily. She was younger and healthier looking in death than I had ever seen her in life. Hermione gasped beside me in recognition.

"Mum!" I cried just like the little boy I was all those years ago when we only had snippets of time together. I remembered her before I was old enough to resent her for not using magic or for not leaving my father.

She lifted a finger and pointed it at me in warning like she would do when I was in trouble. "You should not be calling into the realm of Death, son. Your time is not to come for many years."

I felt properly chastised. "I didn't know what would happen."

"This is her?" Eileen ignored my comment and stared down her hooked nose at Hermione. Our physical resemblances were so similar. My mother was not a handsome woman, but I had her face nonetheless.

Hermione was trying to back into the fireplace, shame showing on all of her features. I reached out and pulled her forward.

"This Hermione Granger, Mother," I pushed her a little forward even as she resisted. "I plan on spending my life with her."

My mother peered at Hermione some more. "Good, good. I wish I could take credit for how you turned out, Severus."

"Don't do this," I said. "I have learned much from you." I learned what not to do anyway, but that did not need saying.

I was beginning to be sorry that I turned the stone in my hand. It was an overly powerful, borderline evil thing to exist in the world. I could see how Harry had difficulties resisting it, but he had, and in so doing had shown that he had moved on and was finding a way to forget the past, and the dead so that he could live. I needed to do the same.

"I'm happy," I said. "I'm sorry for what happened to you, but I do not intend to repeat any of your mistakes. I hope you can forgive me for saying so, but I will never neglect my children, or abuse them, and I am certain that I have found a partner that will never allow such a thing to happen either."

"You don't forgive me for what he did, what I did, do you?" she asked "You have to forgive me for your own sake."

"No, I think I have to forgive you for yours," I said. That was it. It was my mother I needed closure with. I had been so absorbed in getting Hermione to go to her mother because I knew that not doing so would plague her for the rest of her life. Everything finally made sense to me.

"If I could give your childhood back I would." My mother's body started to fade slightly. Our time was up.

"I don't need it back. I have moved on. I am finding my own way and it is working for me," I said. "Tell Death I said hello."

That garnered a smile out of my mother that was a rare as a flower blooming in the snow. It filled my heart and it would be the way I would choose to remember her from that moment forward. She lifted a hand in farewell and disappeared.

Hermione had shaken her way out of my grasp and had gone back to the floo powder.

"You were right, I was so wrong, I should not have encroached on your privacy like that."

I yanked her back out of the fireplace a little more forcefully than I wanted but she was already letting the floo powder sift out of her hand was about to speak.

"You were wrong." I knocked the rest of floo powder out of her hand and onto the floor. With a bruising grip I pulled her to the bedroom. She winced and I relaxed my fingers slightly, but not enough to allow her to pull free.

"Severus now is not the time for this," Hermione said trying to twist away, but her words achieved what her motion could not.

I rounded on her in a fury. "The time for what? Did you think I was dragging you in here for sex?"

The look on her face was answer enough, but it was the fear mingled with the shame that really set me off. "Anger sex? Is that what you think I want? Do you think that I am about to, do I dare say it, rape you?"

I could only imagine what my face looked like. I was on fire with rage that she could even let such a thing pass over her subconscious let alone become a full blown thought in the front of her mind. She rubbed her arm where a moment before I held it in a crushing grip.

"I am not my father," I hissed out barely audibly, but with as much venom as I could muster.

"I know, I'm sorry!" Hermione cried.

I pointed at the picture of Hermione and I that she had given me for Valentine's Day. "Do you see that picture?"

"Yes," she said. "I see it."

"There is only one picture like that of me in existence. One of picture of me so clearly smitten by the person that I am standing next to exists in the whole world and if there are any others it will be the same person standing there with me. Who is that person?" I jabbed my figure at small Hermione in the picture, with her face turned up towards me and the glow in her cheeks showing more than just the cold. I thrust the picture in her hands.

"M-me," Hermione stammered.

I turned around and stalked back to the living room. Hermione followed slowly behind her face flushed. This time I took the floo powder in hand myself. With my free hand I pushed Hermione into the fireplace. "I know you did not mean any harm. You just had something to prove to yourself, or to me, I don't know and I don't care, but I want you to leave me alone right now. Feel free to come back to me when you have finally figured out the significance of this," I tapped myself in the picture. "When you realize there is no one else for me, come back, but not a moment before."

"Severus, please!" Hermione pleaded.

"I am sick of proving to you that I love you, and that I have gotten over Lily, and that I am ready to be committed to you, Hermione. Why don't you try proving it to me for once?" I said and I dropped the floo powder and called for her quarters at Hogwarts. My last glimpse was of her crying freely and reaching her hand for me.

As soon as she was gone I Apparated to the top of my house and then took off flying into the cold night air without my broom, not caring that I learned the trick from Voldemort, only immensely grateful that I had the freedom to do it.

**A/N: Happy Monday everyone! Your reviews are such a rush and I appreciate them all. I got some really could and interesting comments from everyone about the story! I have a break in between classes this week so I hope to get a couple more chapters done, but I have other stuff get done as well so get the reviews coming and motivate me!**


	41. Silence is the Hardest Argument

Disclaimer: I own nada.

Stealing from Thieves

Silence Is One of the Hardest Arguments to Refute

I flew for the better part of four hours over the Forbidden Forest and the Hogwarts grounds and then back over Hogsmeade. I cursed Hermione for making me angry as well as Voldemort for teaching such a wonderful spell that no matter how much I tried to enjoy it I could not help but be reminded that it was tainted with his dark magic. The clouds were low and full and I flew in and out of them without a care, hitting myself with warming and drying spells as often as not.

It was past midnight already when I finally had enough. I had charmed my dripping and freezing clothes more times than I could count, but they had still begun to itch in the way that soaked clothes do as they dry. I sighed in defeat as I landed lightly outside my house. I could not run, or fly, away from any of problems in the past and there was no point in starting. It was just another argument with Hermione that would pass, but it did nothing to improve my mood. As I walked in all the same complaints I had came back again. It was not just about Hermione proving to me that she loved me. I already knew that without a doubt. I did not expect her to be any more adept at proving her love for me than I was at proving my love for her. No, it was the wizarding world in general that I felt like owed me a little more gratitude. I expected the Daily Prophet to write about me as the continuously did, I knew that Witch Weekly would ponder every week if Severus Snape could be trusted again, even the school governors did not surprise me with their decision, but the worst part about it was that it exacerbated the tension I was feeling everywhere else. I was sick to death of people treading so carefully around me and then waiting for me turn around so they could wag their tongues.

There was a light burning in the window so I assumed that Hermione had indeed returned. As much as I wanted to resolve any conflict with her, I did not want to talk about it. Not even a little bit. It was not Hermione in my sitting room who greeted me though, but Harry, who was dozing over a copy of Moste Potente Potions. The page had flipped open to a rather gruesome potion that turned one's skin inside out. How he could fall asleep over that without nightmares was beyond me. On second thought it wasn't because the real horrors he had seen in his life certainly outstripped a drawing from an ancient book.

I tried to slip the book out of his hands without waking him, but he started awake when he felt it move.

"It wasn't me!" he shouted before fully waking and looking up at me guiltily.

I grunted. "I seriously doubt that's true."

Harry stretched languidly and settled back onto the couch.

"Comfortable, Potter?"

He closed his eyes and stretched out. "Yes, quite. This is a lovely couch."

I moved over to him and stood with my arms crossed staring down at him as I had done many times over the years in the potions classroom. Apparently I did not intimidate him anymore because after a few moments he cracked an eye open and grinned.

"I defeated Voldemort and you think that your looming is still going to scare me?"

I considered hexing him and even pulled out my wand to do so. Harry's reflexes had grown quite remarkable because he had his trained on me without even moving from his position any sooner than I had mine.

"I came here with a distraught Hermione. I promised her I would not leave her alone, but I did not promise her I wouldn't curse you into next week for whatever it is you said or did to her." Harry still did not move from his clearly comfortable position, but his eyes were fully open and hard as he stared me down.

I sheathed my wand in an exasperated gesture and he slipped his back up his sleeve. "Where is Hermione then?"

"Your room, I gave her a sleeping draught. She was as hysterical as I've ever seen her, but she wouldn't tell me what happened. She just kept saying that she didn't how to prove anything. In fact, she sounded a lot like she did before exams. All panicky like the world was going to end if she made even the tiniest mistake." Harry sighed heavily and sat up. "Drink?"

"It's my house. I know where my liquor is."

"Aye, but this is my bottle." Harry produced a bottle of Old Ogden's from in between the couch cushions, which I suppose was an effective enough storing place if you wanted it close at hand. He sat up and wordlessly conjured a couple of glasses. He was finally learning how to do silent spells. The teacher in me felt a rush of pride that a student as challenging as he was finally learned something.

I took the glass and drained it. The burn of the liquor warmed me better than the charms, but they only reminded me that my clothes were still slightly damp and itchy. I considered throwing Harry out, but I could tell from his position that he was not planning on leaving any time soon, not without force anyway. He was clearly on a mission for his friend and since that friend was Hermione I could hardly fault him for it. We would have to talk someday about his fearlessness since he defeated Voldemort though, it would do him good to still be afraid of something or he was going to become incredibly reckless. I put the glass on an end table and made to move towards my room.

"Are you going to throw her over?"

Harry was standing behind me.

"What?"

"Hermione is really broken up about whatever happened between you. She cried a lot when Ron ditched us last year while we were hunting Horcruxes, but that was nothing to tonight." Harry's stance was protective. I didn't need the reminder of her time with Ron Weasley, but it was effective. I had hurt Hermione, but she had hurt me this time as well and I was not in the mood to be forgiving yet.

"I am going to change my clothes. You can leave now." I walked away and slipped quietly into my room. I knew very well that Harry was still going to be there when I came out again so I considered not, but Hermione looked peaceful in her potion induced sleep and I did not want to disturb her just yet because if I woke her she would want to talk and I did not want to talk to her yet. It was still good to see her though and have her in my bed. I pressed a soft kiss to her lips that did not wake her before walking out. I was hurt and angry, but still very much in love.

I returned to the sitting room and helped myself to another glass.

I sat next to Harry and inquired about the potions book he was reading.

"I was going through your bookshelves trying to find a recipe for Wolfsbane and I came across that one. I felt nostalgic so I took it down. I'm not surprised you have a copy in your house," he said the last bit as if the book proved that I was every bit the dark wizard the world took me for.

I ignored the implication. "Nostalgic?"

"Polyjuice Potion, second year. Hermione got Lockhart to sign a slip so that she could take the book out of the restricted section. We were trying to figure out who the heir of Slytherin was. Hermione turned herself into a cat. Don't you remember any of this?"

"So you did steal potions ingredients from me."

"No. Never. Hermione stole them," Harry grinned at the memory.

"What about the Gillyweed?"

Harry's smile faltered. "That was Dobby."

In memory of the elf I chose not to comment on that. "The potion could not have been brewed properly if Hermione turned herself into a cat, which I do remember her doing, by the way."

"It was. She used cat's hair in hers. It worked fine for me and Ron. We pretended to be Crabbe and Goyle and Malfoy had no idea. It was too easy."

"And very Slytherin of you."

"I am a descendant of Slytherin in a distant way," Harry said.

I looked at him in confusion and he elaborated.

"During our hunt for Horcruxes we learned about the Peverell brothers. I am descended from the Peverells; it is how I inherited my cloak. The resurrection stone was in Marvolo Gaunt's family and he was proudly a descendant of Slytherin even if they did squander their money and ruin the family name. The original owners of the Hallows were brothers, so in a distant way I'm related." Harry settled back into the couch comfortably. I could see that he was exhausted, but was trying to fight it in order to keep his promise to Hermione.

I could not really argue with his logic and was surprised that he had even come up with the conclusion on his own without balking at the idea.

"Being in Slytherin is not such a bad thing. They produce good people just as the other houses produce plenty of bad," I commented.

Harry looked at me for a long moment. I could not really read the expression in his eyes. It was not pity exactly, but something that said that he understood the injustice of unfair judgments.

"I know that," he said softly.

"Why Wolfsbane?"

"I want to learn how to brew it and start distributing it to people who need it. Greyback and his friends bit a lot of people and in memory of Lupin I want to help them. Until we can find a cure they need affordable Wolfsbane and I can provide that." Harry sat up once again with a light in his eyes. This was something he had clearly given a lot of thought to.

"Wolfsbane is incredibly difficult to brew," I countered, but not convinced his idea was without merit. It was the until 'we find a cure' part that was bouncing around in my head. I had no such delusion that I would be the one to find a cure for lycanthropy, but the inclusion in such an endeavor was heartwarming.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'm not bad at potions when you aren't trying to sabotage me. I was hoping you might actually try and help me for once. You need a new job, don't you?"

The prospect of brewing again for a purpose other than stocking the hospital wing had its appeal. Wolfsbane was a thrilling potion to make because of its complexity and it would be for a good cause. I was intrigued. If anybody had the funds to start up such an enterprise it would be Potter. I could probably get the Malfoy's to chip in as well. It could be part of the charity foundations they were required to support in order to contribute to rebuilding after the war effort.

"Does this mean you have forgiven me for whatever it was I supposedly did to Hermione?"

"You never did say whether you were ditching her or not. This has nothing to do with her though."

I looked to the carpet in front of the fireplace where I had last dropped the stone. It was still there almost hidden against the dark bricks. Harry sat nursing his glass patiently waiting for me to say something. I did not have to tell him anything and I knew that, but having him as a confidant did not seem like such a bad thing anymore. In fact, I was welcoming his friendship almost as eagerly as I did Hermione's love once I got past the fear and hesitation.

"Did she tell you I used the Resurrection Stone?" I could not bring myself to look at him when I asked. I felt no small measure of shame that the temptation had overpowered me.

"No, she would not tell me anything. I can't say that I'm surprised, but at the same time I am. Does that make sense?"

I laughed softly. "Only you can make sense when you don't actually make sense. Hermione caught me as I was about to use it. She automatically assumed that I was going to summon your mother because I am still in love with her. Hermione got jealous and refused to leave while I used the stone and we had an argument about it. It was something private and personal and she pushed me to my limit."

"You're leaving something out," Harry said wisely. "She assumed you were going to summon my mother, but you didn't?"

"I was going to let the stone decide who came."

"Did my mother?" he whispered.

"Yes, but not for me, for Hermione. She told Hermione she was happy she was your friend and slightly chastised Hermione for doubting my love. It was my mother who came for me."

"Ouch. No wonder Hermione was so upset. She must feel really stupid right now. I can't believe she would insist on staying for something so personal. I can't believe she doesn't trust you either. She was always the one who told us you were trustworthy," Harry said.

"When it comes to matters of the heart, trust is a little differently defined. She thinks that if I have any bit still attached to Lily, it is a bit she will have to compete against. It's not true. I am not in love with your mother anymore. I haven't been in years. Anyway, I told her I was sick of her using Lily against me and having to constantly prove my love for her and I suggested that maybe she try proving it for once." There it was out and it was a relief just to get it out.

"I never thought Hermione could be such a prat," Harry said thoughtfully. "I know you can be a prat."

The last was meant to be a joke to lighten the mood and it worked.

"I was harsh with her, but I will admit that I am completely unapologetic. I have grown quite weary with proving to the world that my intentions are pure and good. Hermione was the last person I thought I would have to answer to. I shed many inhibitions to be with her and it felt as if she was throwing them back in my face over a memory of something I once felt." I took one more swallow of whiskey and banished the glass. I needed sleep.

"I'm sorry you two are fighting. I want things to work out for you."

"I appreciate that. I am interested in your Wolfsbane proposal. Perhaps tomorrow we can discuss it further?"

Harry looked at his watch and whistled. "Do you mean later today?"

"I suppose."

"I should probably get back to the castle," Harry said with obvious regret at having to leave the soft comfort of my living room for a more noisy and cluttered common dormitory.

I stood up and stretched my tired body. "You can sleep here tonight if you'd like." I offered.

It was really a pivotal moment in our lives. My offer to let him crash at my place made our friendship official. He was welcome in my home.

"I mean, I have a spare bedroom and it is furnished."

"No, I think I'll stay right here by the fire," he said stretching out along the couch for the umpteenth time that night. "Just bung me a blanket and I will be good."

I tossed him a blanket and went to my room. Hermione remained as she was when I had walked out the last time, the potion clearly still in effect. Either that or Harry overdosed her. I felt a momentary twinge of panic so I did quick check of her vitals just in case, but she was stable. I shook off the ridiculous notion that Hermione would allow Harry to attempt to poison her at all and shed fresh clothes I'd just put on an crawled into bed next to her. I lay awake for awhile listening to her breathing softly and just absorbing the situation. Up to this point in our relationship whenever we had shared a bed it was as a result of sex, and usually didn't even involve a full night's sleep. It probably would have been prudent to wake her or transfer her to her own quarters in the castle, but prudence was something I was not inclined to practice with her anymore. I let her sleep and eventually fell into a sound sleep of my own.

In what felt like only minutes I woke to the sensation of being watched. I did not move or open my eyes, but Hermione's gentle shifting next to me was a sure indication that she was awake.

"What time is it," I asked in a voice gravelly with sleep. I don't think I could have opened my eyes or moved a limb at that moment if I wanted to for I was so tired and comfortable.

"Nearly six," Hermione whispered.

I attempted to move a hand to reach for her, but all I managed was a little movement in my fingers that might not have even been perceptible to the human eye even though it felt like a monumental accomplishment to me.

"Go back to sleep," I grumbled.

Hermione shifted again. "Don't you think we should talk?"

My agitation was the only thing that gave me the energy to open one eye and glance at her. She was sitting against the headboard chewing on her bottom lip and looking at me nervously.

"No, Hermione, I really don't," I said closing my one eye. "I just want to have a lie in with you."

"But you're angry with me," she said incredulously.

I forced my eyes open and turned onto my side. Clearly going back to sleep was not going to part of that Sunday morning.

"I'm not _not_ angry with you, but I don't want to talk about it." I patted the space in front of me. "Come, let's go back to sleep. You can explain your absence to Minerva later."

"We shouldn't go to bed angry with one another," she commented academically. "It's supposed to be bad for relationships."

"Bollocks. Not sleeping off a temper and fighting instead is bad for a relationship." I know there was a little more heat behind my response than I had intended, but I was not going to discuss the night before with her if I could help it. As far as I was concerned there was nothing to discuss. I knew how she felt about any lingering feelings about Lily, and she knew how I felt about that. Either we would move on or remain at an impasse. Either way I was not going to talk about it. Going back to sleep, however, was feeling like less of an option than either of the others. I forced myself up into a sitting position next to Hermione and glared at her.

"I'm sorry for yesterday. I really am," she said looking at me with tear filled eyes.

"Apology accepted," I said curtly. "Can we lay back down now?"

"Severus, you are clearly still angry."

I dragged a hand over my tired face and climbed out of bed. Not because I was trying to get distance between Hermione and myself, but because coffee was the only thing that was going to make me tolerable.

"Come," I said.

Hermione reluctantly got up and followed me down the stairs into the kitchen. I motioned for her to be quiet as I gestured through the sitting room door to let her know that Harry was still there and fortunately for him, still blissfully asleep as well. Hermione looked up at me in surprise but nodded.

I sat Hermione down at the Formica kitchen table, made coffee and toast, and waited for her to speak. After I had drained my first cup and refilled it I raised an eyebrow at her questioningly.

"What would you have me say?" she asked.

"I don't know, Hermione. You are the one who feels that talking is necessary."

"I don't want you be in a strop," Hermione replied adding cream and sugar to her second cup of coffee.

"I'm not in a strop," I snapped. "I am sorry we argued, and I am especially sorry about what we fought over, but there is nothing to discuss. Either you will understand my _old_ feelings for Lily or you will not. I don't know what you have _me_ say."

"I don't want to argue with you again," Hermione said quietly staring into her coffee cup. The cream swirled around the top as she tilted the cup from side to side. "I was so ashamed of what I did that I could not even bring myself to tell Harry about it."

"I know. He was ready to curse me for hurting you last night."

"Oh, Severus, I'm so sorry! It was me that hurt you and I should have warned him. I hope you didn't have a row with him as well." Hermione sloshed a little of her coffee onto the table as she set the cup down hard. I got up to get her a towel to clean it up.

It was our first morning together in what I considered to be our house and we were discussing an argument we had the night before. I almost pointed it out, but figured that would probably make her feel even guiltier. Instead I went behind her and wrapped my arms around her shoulders. I bent down so I could kiss the top of his head.

"I told him what happened."

"He must think I'm a bloody cow!" Hermione cried covering her face with her hands. "I mean, it's his mother and everything."

"Nah, I don't think you're a cow. Only human, like the rest of us, but it was a bad thing you did, Hermione."

We both looked to the doorway to see a sleep rumpled, but relatively cheerful Harry in the doorway. In the last twenty-four hours I had seen him moon over his ex-girlfriend, dump off the Hallows in my lap in a fit of agitation, prepare to fight me in defense of his friend, offer me a business proposal, and then wake up in a cheerful mood as if none of the other things ever happened. I reaffirmed my decision that he was going round the twist, but decided that I liked Harry Potter in a good mood.

I relinquished my hold on Hermione and poured Harry a cup of coffee glad to play host. I may not be going back to sleep anytime soon, but at least Harry's presence summarily ended the conversation.

Harry took the cup of coffee I offered and took a long drink. "That's good. Breakfast anyone?"

Harry then proceeded to chat about Quidditch as he went about my kitchen preparing eggs, bacon, more toast, sausages, and beans. He worked gracefully and confidently as he through the ingredients for the full English breakfast together and sat three heaping plates on the table. If only he could have that kind of ease behind a cauldron he could be as good of a potions maker as his mother was, if not better with more training.

"I didn't realize you could cook, Potter," I commented trying out a bit of the sausage.

Harry nodded and swallowed a large mouthful. "I did for the Dursley's since was about eight and tall enough to see over the top of the stove."

"That's rather depressing," I replied. "But nonetheless a good skill to have."

"Can you cook?" he asked me.

I shrugged. "I dabble. I find that recipes for potions and food are the same. The first time they must be made exactly as detailed, and the experimentation comes later. I like to be creative in both areas, however."

Hermione and Harry both glanced at me. I am sure we were all thinking about my sixth year potions book that was full of suggestions to improve each of the brewing recipes, as well as some of my original spells.

"I am not a good cook," Hermione admitted. "I mean, I am not an original cook. I tried really hard with the few things we had to work with while we were hunting all last year, but I never really succeeded in making anything more than merely edible."

Her potions performance was actually reflective of her admission. She was very talented with making potions as they were explained to her, but she was not original in the lab either. I wondered if she would be able to create a potion on her own. That was another skill that could be learned with practice.

Harry laughed. "I guess we know who is going to be the one in the kitchen in this relationship."

Hermione blushed deeply.

"Ah, come on, Hermione. You know I'm kidding. I am eternally grateful for the array of mushrooms and roots you presented to me last year. Without them I would have starved and I admit that I was a bit preoccupied and did not really help you."

After that the conversation faded as we finished our food. Hermione was reluctantly picking at hers at first, but at the end I was pleased to see she had eaten most of the food on her plate. After breakfast Hermione sent a message to Minerva alerting the Headmistress of her and Harry's whereabouts. She responded by stepping through the fireplace and finding us in my kitchen.

"I figured you would be here, Hermione, but didn't I send you to find Potter for me last night?" Minerva chastised.

Hermione blushed again and gestured towards Hermione. "I found him," she offered sheepishly.

"She told me you were looking for me. I'm sorry I didn't come right away." Harry set a plate of breakfast down in front of Minerva at the table. She sniffed it approvingly and tucked in.

"I suppose I should blame you for their absence?" she asked me in between mouthfuls.

"You could if it makes you feel better. I daresay you have had years of practice finding ways to avoid blaming certain Gryffindors for their transgressions," I quipped easily smirking at the three them as they all shot me reproachful looks.

"We all had a hand in it," Harry admitted.

Minerva sniffed. "Well, be lucky it was only the small matter of your future that I wanted to discuss with you, Potter."

Harry sat up. "Really?"

"Yes. I have an application for the Auror Training Programme for you." She produced a thick scroll from inside her tartan robe. "Enclosed is my letter of recommendation. You will need to fill out the application, complete the essay, and get one more letter of recommendation. You are also required to visit St. Mungos for a physical examination."

"But I thought I was already in. Kingsley said as much that fighting Voldemort and everything I did last year was good enough!" Harry exclaimed.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "I thought you were above being given handouts due to your status as savior of the wizarding world."

"Well, there were certain perks." Harry unrolled the parchment and hissed at the quantity of questions he would have to answer. Hermione reached over and took the application from him to read thoroughly.

"Yes, yes, Potter. You did very well, but there is still a lot for you to learn. As an Auror you won't have Hermione and Mr. Weasley with you at all times to make sure you get out of every situation you find yourself in alive."

Harry turned red with barely suppressed frustration. "Fine. I'll do it."

"Good. Even if you had already been guaranteed a spot by Kingsley you would be required to fill out the necessary paperwork. Now, if you remember correctly, I told Dolores Umbridge during your fifth year that I would see you become and Auror if it was the last thing I do and I intend to keep my promise."

Minerva rapped the table with her knuckles as if to say "and that's final."

We all sat in a stunned silence for a few moments. Finally, Harry stood up from his chair and went to Minerva and hugged her. Minerva responded by awkwardly patting him on the shoulder, but I could see that she was well pleased.

"There, there, that's a good lad," she said as Harry pulled away. "We must begin right away, so as your Headmistress and former head of house I am ordering you back to the castle to get to work."

Harry gathered up the paperwork. "Severus, I guess I will have to meet with you again to talk about my potions proposal."

"Send me an owl."

"Would you be willing to write my other letter of recommendation?" he asked.

I nodded pleased that he asked. "Of course."

Minerva spelled her plate clean and stood up to leave as well. "Hermione?"

"Um, if you don't need me at the castle right now I think I'd like to stay here awhile longer," Hermione said.

"It would be wise if you were present at dinner," Minerva warned.

Hermione nodded fervently. "I will be."

After they took their leave I finished cleaning up the kitchen and then led Hermione back upstairs to the bedroom. I pulled her against me and kissed her languidly.

"So you're really okay with not talking about last night? I mean, you really forgive me?"

I was not sure if I was at the point where I had forgiven her, but I was not angry anymore. I shifted my hips so that she could feel how not angry with her I currently was. She smiled at me a hopeful smile that things were going to be all right. It was only a matter of moments before we were freed from all our clothing and she was straddling me. I drank in every curve of her body from the line of her throat as she threw back her head in pleasure to the gentle slopes of her breasts. How could she think I could ever have anything left for Lily when all I could do was worry that I would never be enough for her? I wanted to unzip Hermione open and crawl inside.

"I love you, Hermione," I gasped as we climaxed together. "Only you, always you."

When we were finished and spooning in the bed getting ready to finally have that few hours of sleep I still craved Hermione spoke.

"You asked me to prove to you that I love you," she began.

I pulled her closer and kissed her neck. "Shh, I was angry."

She turned her head towards me a little so that I could reach her mouth with mine. "I know, but I really thought about it."

"Don't over think it, love," I said kissing her again. "I know you love me."

"I'll try not to, but if there is anything in the world I could do that would make you understand how important you are to me I hope you'll tell me. I would do anything for you."

I indulged in a brief moment of base male fantasy while I imagined Hermione giving me a luxurious blow job, but I figured it would hardly be nice to suggest she do that at that moment in time. Instead my thoughts turned to the emerald ring still burning a hole in my coat pocket. There was definitely something she could do that would demonstrate her feelings for me. There is always a slight imbalance in relationships, one person always loves more or less than the other, but if we were going to fight over who got to be the one to love the most, then I didn't think we were going to have too many more problems.

"Promise me, Severus," Hermione murmured sleepily. "Anything you want me to do, promise you'll ask."

I pulled her close to my chest and rested my cheek against the back of her head. "I promise I will ask."

Finally we got the few hours of sleep I had been hoping for all morning long.

**A/N: Sorry for the long time in between updates! I am trying to be better about not taking anymore long breaks, but I got tied up. I am taking summer classes on top of work, and in a couple of weeks I am going to Orlando for a week and I am excited! I have to get ahead in my schoolwork though, so I don't know how many more chapters I will be able to write before I go. Thanks for all the reviews! They are very much appreciated and extremely motivating! I am trying to get this chapter out to you quickly so I am sorry about the errors just in case there are more than usual.**


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